iSpy
by herecomesthepun
Summary: in which Annabeth is a spy, Percy is not and between keeping her identity a secret, not dying and Algebra homework Annabeth has to navigate the dangers of falling in love (quite literally). Percabeth, AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

" _they taped over your mouth, scribbled out the truth with their lies, your little spies_ "

\- crushcrushcrush, paramore

* * *

So, like. Annabeth is _kind_ of excited.

She knows that _technically_ , excited is the last emotion she should be feeling at the moment. She's being sent across the country to make sure she doesn't die. That's pretty terrifying. But it's been six months since the accident, and she doesn't think Chiron has let her step outside _once_ – and now she's going all the way to New York to go to school and live in a house and do proper, normal stuff _all by herself_.

That's pretty exciting. Sue her for feeling thrilled.

"All right," Chiron says. "Before you leave, let's do a quick rundown. When you land, what are you doing?"

Annabeth is far too impatient for this. "Catching a cab."

"To?"

"46B Southerland Road."

"Schedule?"

"Go to the house. Unpack. Call Marino High School."

"To make confirm what?"

"That I've been enrolled and that I'm attending it the next day."

"Who are you?"

"Lois Watermann. Good at Maths, average at everything else. Okay at sports. Hates Science. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Hook nose. Parents are at a conference in Alabama."

"What is your main aim?"

"To fit in. Be unordinary."

"What are you not going to do?"

"Stick out. Go snooping around in business that isn't mine."

That bit kills her. She's a spy and she's not allowed to do even the _tiniest_ bit of sleuthing? She did sneak an acid lipstick into one of her plimsolls, however. Maybe she'll be able to just, you know. Rearrange the rules a tad. Chiron doesn't have to know anything.

"Good." Chiron gives her a warm, fatherly look. "You stay safe, Annabeth, you hear me? Keep out of trouble."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll see you soon, Annabeth."

"You too, Chiron."

And that's _it_.

* * *

Well. Kind of.

The apartment she's staying in is _beautiful_. It's a little small, which isn't a problem in the slightest. It's been sparsely but prettily furnished, with a couch in the living room, a few pots, a box of cereal and some microwaveable fajitas in the kitchen cupboards and a bed-frameless mattress in the middle of one of the two bedrooms. Annabeth notices grumpily that it's in the _smallest_ bedroom, but there's a dangly light fitting hanging right over the door that she reckons will be obliterated if she tried to manoeuvre the mattress so she just leaves it.

It's nice. She likes it.

She unpacks her suitcase and then hauls her makeup kit to the bathroom. Time to start her transformation from Annabeth Chase to Lois Watermann.

Like. Don't get her wrong. She loves disguises. She thinks they're jolly good – but she absolutely hates disguises that have to last for a long time. Because more often than not, she can't just resort to wigs.

"Man up, Chase," she tells herself in the mirror, picking up a bottle of hair dye. She glares at herself. "It is hair. You will grow your blonde hair back. Don't be such a drama queen." She nods at herself firmly. "You have much more important things to worry about than your hair. Like– like making friends. And fitting in. And algebra homework. Your hair is not a top priority so you will shut up right this instant."

It's not the first time she's dyed her hair. It's been ginger before, and then dark blonde, and then black, and then ginger again, and multiple shades of brown. However, that's always been temporary hair dye that fades within a few weeks. She's never had to do it the point where it'll stay in until it grows out.

She scrubs it in with a pair of plastic gloves, and when she's leaving it to sit she spends the entire half an hour staring at herself in the mirror considering the pros and cons of straightening her hair every day to make herself look less like herself. She decides against it, because she's tried it before and when she went back to being Annabeth her hair couldn't decide whether to curl or stay straight and formed something awful-looking in between the two for the next several weeks.

Curls are cool, anyway.

She washes out the dye and avoids looking at herself in the mirror as it dries. She puts one of the fajitas in the microwave and eats it, and then she arranges her clothes into piles and assigns them certain drawers. She calls the school, deepening her voice and pretending it's her mother. They tell her she starts tomorrow. She writes CL on her shoulder in Biro so she won't forget to put her brown contact lenses in the next day. Then, when the clock hits 10:56, she curls up on the mattress and pushes her nose into her pillow.

This is how it feels to be independent.

It's fun, don't get her wrong. But she feels a bit lonely, in a new room in a new state with new hair ready to start a new school.

She tells herself she's being ridiculous and falls asleep.

* * *

School is interesting, to say the least.

Annabeth has watched movies, obviously. She watched almost every teen movie she could and did as much research as her alarm would let her on what schools would be like. To remain inconspicuous, she decided on a pair of jeans and a random purple T-shirt. She arrives at school fifteen minutes early, and wanders blindly until she finds the office, where she receives her schedule and a map of the school.

"But you won't be needing that," the lady at the desk says cheerfully. "We've got Brandon showing you around for today."

Annabeth blinks. "Excuse me?"

"Brandon Lawrence," the lady repeats, as if by saying his full name it will make things clearer. "He's a lovely boy, don't you worry. Very sweet – also very handsome. He'll show you around Marino."

Sure enough, a few moments later a boy with a thatch of slicked-down blonde hair and piercing blue eyes comes in. There's something eerily familiar about him that makes Annabeth's stomach twist, but she forces a smile and accepts his handshake when he offers it.

"Louise Watermann, right?" he asks.

Annabeth's eye twitches. "Lois, actually."

"My bad." He gives her a radiant smile that almost blinds Annabeth, and she blinks, a little stunned. His teeth are extremely white. It's a little off-putting, actually. "Come on, I'll give you a tour. Miss Marsh gave me first and second period off, so I can show you around."

Oh, joy. She's going to spend two hours with him. Hurrah.

However, not all hope seems to be lost, because when they round the corner, Annabeth pretending to pay attention to whatever Brandon is rattling on about, they smack straight into a girl holding a pile of Maths textbooks.

"Hey, Brandon!" she chirps.

Brandon squints at her, as if he can't remember who she is. Annabeth wants to laugh. "Um, hey... Daisy?"

The girl scowls at him. "Hazel."

"Close."

"Yeah, not really." She turns on Annabeth, beaming. "Oh, you must be the new girl! I'm Hazel, it's nice to meet you."

"Lois. Um, you too."

Hazel looks much, much nicer than Brandon. Annabeth didn't get the time to Study Brandon properly, because she feels a little intimidated if she looks at him too long, but with Hazel, standing there with her gold eyes and chocolate skin and dimpled smile, it's easy. Single mother. Absent a lot, though. If she were around she wouldn't let Hazel walk out wearing what she's wearing (a crimson velvet jacket and a dark purple skirt. It's cute, if not slightly old-fashioned, but the colours don't match at all). Her mother also works as something eccentric. She can't tell properly – it's something between a fortuneteller and a tarot card dealer – but Hazel definitely inherited some of the traits. She's got a bunch of symbols Annabeth recognizes as good luck sigils stitched over the breast of her jacket, not the mention the top of what looks like a bag of herbs peeking out the top of her pocket.

She looks utterly wonderful. Annabeth wants her to be her tour guide, not stupid Brandon.

It's as if Hazel can read her thoughts. She studies them for a few seconds before saying, "Here, Brandon, I'll show Lois around."

Brandon looks irritated. "That's okay, I can do it."

"No, really." Hazel beams at her, and then links their arms together. Annabeth's never been one for affection so she stares at their linked arms, confused, while Hazel gives Brandon a big smile. "I can do it. Tell Mr Solomon and Mr Moore that I'll be absent from their classes, please."

"No, _hey_ –"

But before Brandon can complain any further, Hazel drags Annabeth away from him down the corridor. When they are out of earshot, Hazel bursts into giggles. "That was so scary!" she hisses. "I was so afraid he was going to rip my head off."

"I would have protected you."

"That's very sweet, except I doubt you could have fought off Brandon Lawrence. He's the captain of the football team, if he hasn't already told you. He's got biceps bigger than his future."

Annabeth holds back a snigger. If only Hazel knew that one time she brought down six fully-grown men with nothing but a baseball and a piece of uncooked spaghetti then she might have to rethink her statement. Brandon Lawrence is no match for her.

Unfortunately, she can't say that. You know. Fitting in and all that jazz.

Hazel shows her around. Annabeth was right, Hazel _is_ much more interesting than Brandon. She vaguely shows her where certain blocks and classrooms are, but then she gives Annabeth a little grin that makes Annabeth's veins tingle. "Now I'm going to show you the ropes," she says. "You know. The Unspoken Rules Of High School?"

Frankly, Annabeth doesn't know, because she's never been to a high school long enough to learn these 'rules', but, like. She's watched Mean Girls and High School Musical and Bratz. She knows what they are.

"So," Hazel says, leading her down the corridors. "We haven't really got _cliques_ , as such, because unfortunately this isn't a movie, but don't fear, we've got our fair share of mean kids. But they're not all cheerleaders, so." She pulls Annabeth to one of the doors and points at some of the students through the small window. "That girl over there with the long black hair? That's Drew. She is a cheerleader and she's a total menace. I'd suggest you steer clear of her. She also knows how to flirt, too, and because of that she's got about half the school population at her feet. It's not necessarily a choice, though. She wraps them around her finger, get them to tell/send her all sorts of discriminating things about themselves and then uses it to get them to do stuff for herself. She's evil but she's smart.

"You've met Brandon. He's also your stereotypical jock. Moved her not that long ago, actually – I think that's why he was originally your tour guide, because he 'gets' you, or something like that. He's a butt. Enough said.

"Then we have Silena, but she's _wonderful_. She's always really nice to me. She's also a cheerleader and she's dating Beckendorf – he looks like a rugby player but he's actually really, really good at woodshop, you wouldn't believe half the stuff he makes – and she's best friends with Clarisse La Rue." Hazel points to a beefy girl with a brown, ropy ponytail and a bandanna. "Clarisse is the school bully. She's like Drew but tougher and not bothered to start a collection of boys' nudes to use as blackmail. If you say one word against her or Silena she'll punch you in the nose. She's the only girl on the rugby team. She will break you in half."

Hazel stabs her finger against the glass towards a stocky Chinese boy. "That's Frank Zhang," she says. Annabeth isn't sure, but she's pretty sure she's blushing. "He's – he's also really nice. Don't be swayed by his size. He's – he's like a gentle giant."

Annabeth can't help it. "Do you like him?"

Hazel goes positively scarlet. " _No_!"

She does. It's cute.

Annabeth peers through the window. Something – or rather some _one_ – catches her eye and she frowns. "Who's that?" she asks, pointing.

Hazel looks and then she lets a little smile slid on her lips. "That's Percy," she says. "He's a total sweetheart. He's also kind of quiet – he only has two friends, Jason and Grover. Grover is your average Go Green nerd, and Jason is the school's golden boy. No one's really sure how they became friends, but Jason's fiercely protective of both him and Grover."

Annabeth ponders over this information. The cogs in her mind start spinning. "Does he have a girlfriend?"

Hazel laughs. "I wouldn't try. He doesn't speak to anyone but Grover and Jason."

"No– I wasn't– " Annabeth huffs. Like. He's cute and all, but she's not interested like _that_. But she can't exactly tell Hazel _why_ she needed that information. Hazel would think she had gone positively bananas if she told her that she was trying to Study him. She's too far away to do it properly, but she needs information to grasp at least a vague understanding of him.

On second thoughts, that does sound a little crush-y. Oh well.

Hazel gives her a warm smile. "It's okay. I was kidding."

"Yeah."

Annabeth gives him one last look, before allowing Hazel to drag her away.

Yeah, he's cute. Like. _Really_ cute.

* * *

There's a list of reasons as to why Annabeth had to move away. A few of them she knows. The majority she doesn't.

Six months ago, Annabeth had gone undercover in a bakery as 'practice'. Chiron was always putting her in positions like that – sending her to shops or carnivals or schools as someone else to teach her how to regain a character. Everything was planned out perfectly. She had an earpiece in, in which one of her friends, a boy called Dakota, spoke to her through, and she had been training since she could walk. There was no possible way she could have gotten hurt.

–except the thing is, yes, there was, because not ten minutes after she had walked into the bakery a bomb under the counter went off.

It was on the news. A one-off terrorist attack. But it wasn't, of course it wasn't, because it was no coincidence that Annabeth, a teenage spy working for the FBI with so much information in her hands that if she wanted she could bring the world down, was there at the time it went off. One person died. Twelve were seriously injured – Annabeth one of them. She had been blasted through the shop window – two thick sheets of double-glazed glass – and was crushed beneath a table. She had broken three of her ribs, shattered the whole of her left arm and had speared her lung with one of the table legs that went straight through her stomach.

She lived. She was okay.

Except she wasn't really, because two weeks later the train Annabeth was meant to be catching, the one she had accidentally missed because she had spent too long at the barriers digging through her bag trying to find her ticket, had a freak accident and fell off the railings. No one survived.

The police said it was ice on the tracks. Chiron sent out a group of students from the Society to look at the crime scene, and they said that the tracks had been slicked with oil and car grease to the point where they couldn't even stand.

Annabeth had a psychopath on her tail and she had a pretty good idea at who it was. So, to keep her safe, Chiron sent her to New York with a new name and a new identity to keep her safe.

It's a scary thing, the spy world. If only she knew just how scary it was going to really get.

* * *

 **A/N: I promise the chapters aren't going to normally be this boring I suck at writing openings (as you can tell).**

 **Anyway, hello! Welcome to my story. It's my first story under this account, so I hope you enjoy, although it's not my first story for fanfiction or pjo (my other account was utterly hideous ew I hope it stays forgotten). I haven't used this website in a while so excuse me if the layout is a bit weird for the first few chapters, I just need to navigate my way around a little.**

 **Speaking of chapters, yes, this is going to be a multi-chapter fic (woo). I'm going to aim to update minimum twice a week, maybe even three if I can, but I've got GCSEs coming up so that many** **vary a little (I'll let you know when I'm fully submerged in them, so you can expect updates to be a little all over the place). Also YES, this is a Percabeth story, but the Percabeth may not be for a few chapters. As you can see with the genres, it's Mystery _and_ Romance, so as well as percabeth you've also got a lovely little subplot to look forward to, so, you know, #staytuned.**

 **Anyway, that's all I have for now, so I hope you're all doing well and that you all have a lovely week. Tell me what you think, and I'll see you soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

" _like a thief in the light, you can't hide, you can't hide from your shadow / it's the only thing you own_ "  
human, gabrielle aplin

* * *

Annabeth gets paired with a boy called Leo in Science.

She's not too sure how she feels about Leo yet. The first lesson they had in which they were lab partners Leo managed to get the entire Science floor evacuated because he accidentally set fire to a table (which Annabeth is still confused about – they weren't even doing an _experiment_ , it was literally just textbooks and worksheets and suddenly they all went up in flames) and when she sat with Hazel in the canteen on her first day Frank Zhang joined them, giving them a long-winded story about how _stupid Valdez had let the crickets out again_ and now he _couldn't even go to the toilet_ because _the sinks were infested with them_ punctuated every five seconds with a _gosh darn it Leo._

Like. He seems wonderful. But if Annabeth wants to try and stay under the radar she's going to have to avoid spontaneously catching fire.

"All right, class," says Mr call-me-Hephy Hephaestus, a man with a lopsided beard and a button-up covered in what looks (and smells) like machine grease. "Today we're going to look at nuclear weapons. Can anyone give me any uses or purposes of nuclear weapons?"

Leo's hand shoots up.

Hephaestus sighs. Leo's hand is the only one up, but he looks like he'd rather pluck his nose hairs then call on him. "Valdez."

"Tanks, submarines and bombs," Leo chirps cheekily. He _knows_ how much Hephaestus despises him. "To name a few."

Oh yeah, and another thing? Leo is _incredible_ at Science. When Annabeth Studied him, she got a sense that he didn't really care about his grades – which is the case with most subjects, if the stories Hazel told her about how one time he got the entire school shut down for a week because of a stink-bomb he set off during an English exam are anything to go by – but not with Science.

Or woodshop. Annabeth's seen some stuff he whips up. His work rivals Beckendorf's.

"Yes," Mr Hephaestus says, displeased. "Today we're going to focus on how nuclear weapons benefitted the creation of the nuclear bomb."

Someone behind Annabeth stifles a yawn. She feels the same way.

One of the only benefits of being Lois Watermann – aside from, you know, getting her own space and acting like a normal teenager – is that to remain unremarkable she can't work to her full potential. Annabeth is smart. Annabeth is _incredibly_ smart. There is a reason she got selected to be part of FBI – apart from being born into it and all, but that's a different story. She needs to 'dumb herself down' to fit in – which normally she would be absolutely furious about, but in lessons like this she's actually rather pleased. She sits near the back and she's read every WikiHow she possibly can on high school. She reckons if she plays it right she could fall asleep through the whole lesson.

Or at least, that's the _plan_. But then suddenly it's not, because when Hephaestus clicks onto the next slide Annabeth sits up straight in her chair.

It's a screenshot of a news report – but not any news report, oh _no_ , it's _the_ news report. The news report that talked about the bakery.

 _Her_ bakery.

Annabeth almost vomits.

Across the room, she sees Brandon sit up.

"This is an example of a nuclear bomb attack," Mr Hephaestus explains. "In 2015, in a bakery in Georgia, a nuclear bomb went off. It killed only one person but it caused a great deal of casualties. If used incorrectly or taken advantage of, nuclear weapons can cause a great deal of trauma and destruction."

"Why was there a bomb in a bakery, sir?" Brandon asks.

"That's not what we're focusing on – however, the police are still not quite sure. They assume it was a terrorist attack."

Annabeth stares at her book, feeling her stomach swirl. She is actually going to vomit. Leo gives her a concerned look. _You okay?_ he mouths.

Annabeth can't focus on that. Instead, she stares at the lines and the margins and the slope of her handwriting in her exercise book, looking at their neatness and actively trying not to think about how it felt when the table leg impaled her stomach.

 _Yoga breaths_ , she tells herself. _Yoga breaths_.

It's not working, and somewhere in the fogginess of hr mind she swears at herself. What is _happening_? She's talked about the bomb before. She read all the articles. She even watched the security camera footage that had been uploaded to YouTube without batting an eyelid. Why is this happening now? At _school_?

So much for keeping a low profile. She's barely been here two days and now she's having a panic attack in front of thirty students.

Leo starts to look a little scared. Tentatively, he raises his hand.

"Um, sir?"

Hephaestus sighs crossly. "What, Valdez? Can't you see I'm trying to teach a lesson?"

"My lab partner's having a panic attack."

That catches his attention. Hephaestus looks right at her – so does everyone else – and Annabeth wants nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die.

"Take her to A&E," he squeaks out. He's clearly very out of his limit here.

Leo helps Annabeth out her chair and together they wobble out the classroom. It's a little awkward, because Annabeth is at least a head taller than him, but she appreciates his efforts anyway. Uncomfortably, they manage to move themselves around the corner – but before Leo can start leading her down the stairs to A&E Annabeth pulls him into a bathroom.

"Um?"

"No nurses," Annabeth wheezes. "I just need– need'ta breathe."

Leo fidgets. "Are you– are you sure? 'Cause, like. I'm flattered that you would think otherwise but I'm not actually– a good person to come to with things like this? Like. I don't know how to help. Or anything."

"It's okay." Annabeth lets out a gasp and clutches the edge of the toilet. Somehow, in her blurry state of mind she had managed to sink to the floor and was now leaning over the toilet bowl. She doesn't _think_ she's going to throw up.

Or maybe she will. It might help. Who knows.

"I just– need a few moments."

Leo nods and uncomfortably joins her on the ground. "Okay."

Annabeth sucks in a few clumsy breaths of air. Slowly, her head is beginning to clear and she feels like she can breathe again. "Tell me something funny," she rasps out.

"Won't that make it worse?"

"No, I need to concentrate on something. Go on."

"Uh, okay." Leo scrunches up his eyebrows, trying to think of something. "I've been expelled five times?"

Annabeth stares at him. "Are you serious?"

Leo nods cheerfully. He's beginning to ease up a bit – although Annabeth suspects it's mainly because he's telling a story he's very proud of. "Yup."

"How?"

"Well, the first time, I let the frogs out. It was just a joke but one of the water fountains had had some issues with blockage and whatever and was filled with water that couldn't go down the train, so a bunch of the frogs camped out there and laid lots of little tadpoles."

Annabeth laughs. "No way."

"Way." Leo even does a white girl hair flick that Annabeth sniggers at. He sobers up quickly and keeps going. "But the tadpoles went everywhere, innit? Somehow they ended up in the drinking water and all the water fountains had to be closed for about six months because frogs kept hopping out of them. It cost so much to get them all out, man. So they expelled me."

"What about the second time?"

Leo launches into another story, a long-winded tale involving fire, hockey sticks and locking a teacher inside a gym closet overnight, and Annabeth is so immediately enraptured that they both don't hear the bathroom door open.

"Um, hello?"

Annabeth whips around. Leo stares up, scandalized.

It's _Percy_.

He's wearing a pair of faded jeans and a shark T-shirt that has most certainly seen better days. Annabeth wasn't able to see him properly through the window of the door but now that he's standing right in front of her all she can see is tousled black hair and _eyes_. Annabeth has never really been a sap when it comes to eyes but his eyes are probably the most beautiful eyes she's ever seen.

"'Sup, Perce," Leo says weakly. He raises a hand. "How you doing?"

Percy looks very, very confused. "Did I interrupt anything?"

Annabeth frowns. "No?"

"Lois wasn't feeling too great," Leo says quickly. "Mr H let us out of Science."

Annabeth sends a silent thank-you to him.

"What did you think we were doing?" she asks.

Leo chokes.

Percy flushes red. "Um. Nothing. Don't worry."

Annabeth doesn't believe him in the slightest. As an occasional pathological liar herself, she can sniff out lies like a bloodhound.

"So, Perce." Leo tries to casually lean against the toilet bowel. "What brings you here?"

Percy fidgets. "I, um. Needed the toilet."

Annabeth's eyes widen. _Right_. That would explain the urinals. "Ah."

"Of course," Leo says. "The toilet. I see."

They wait in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds.

Percy is the one to make the first move. "So, can I, uh...?"

"Yes! Yes, absolutely." Leo comes back to it with a start, and pats the toilet seat. He hauls himself up and then looks at Annabeth expectantly. "Do you, uh, need any more time, or are you ready to head back?"

"I'm ready to head back," Annabeth says, and tries to pull herself back up. Except what she doesn't know is that when it comes to hygiene and leaving wet toilet paper on the ground boys are almost the same, if not worse, than girls, because she plants her foot right on one and almost goes flying.

Leo, the utter piece of crap, cracks up. "Are you okay?"

Annabeth lets go of the toilet seat and glares at him. "Thanks for _helping_."

"No problem," Leo tells her. Annabeth pulls a hideous face and dusts herself off, and then out of the corner of her eye catches sight of Leo imitating her almost-fall and Percy sniggering at it. "I can see you, you know."

Percy sounds like he's trying to suppress laughter. "It was very graceful."

"I'd like to see you do better."

They couldn't. She's a spy. She's got the reflexes of a wolf.

"Of course," Leo says. "The next time I'm picking myself off the ground of a toilet I'll make sure to slip on a piece of loo roll."

Annabeth scowls at him.

* * *

It's lunchtime and it takes Annabeth exactly 21.47 seconds to regret her decision.

"Hey Lois," Hazel says cheerfully – but then she catches sight of Leo and Percy and gives Annabeth an odd look. "Um, hey, Leo, Percy? How– how are you guys?"

"We're absolutely spiffing, thank you for asking," Leo tells her, swinging in the chair next to Annabeth. He leaves a gap of one seat that Percy, who, Annabeth has quickly learnt, isn't as outgoing and outrageous as Leo when around new people, awkwardly sinks into. His leg brushes Annabeth's and she internally smacks herself when she feels the area zing with electricity.

 _For heaven's sake, you don't even know the boy. He could be a serial killer._

Then she internally laughs because _please_ , if he were a serial killer, she would know.

Leo gives Hazel an over-flirtatious wink. "And who might you be?"

Hazel looks mildly annoyed. "We've been in the same English class for two years."

"Oh." Momentarily, Leo looks a little thrown off. Then he blinks and it's gone, and he obnoxiously leans his upper body across both Percy and Annabeth to rest his chin in his hands nearer to Hazel's face. "Well, it's about time that we get to know each other a bit better, don't we?"

Annabeth sees Hazel flush. She knows that she's attracted to Frank Zhang like nobody's business but after a few days with her she learnt that her morals when it came to dating are rather old-fashioned. The most explicit thing she'll be doing until she's twenty-five is holding hands. The fact that Leo is leaning remarkably close to her probably is deemed as 18+ Material in her books.

"Hey, Hazel." And suddenly _Frank_ appears out of nowhere, and even though Annabeth and Hazel are pressed up tightly against each other he pushes himself in between them. Annabeth, Percy and Leo all get pushed to the side, and Leo's hand slips from under his chin and he conks his nose on the table edge.

Hazel goes even redder. "Hey, Frank," she squeaks.

Leo beams. "Frank, my man!"

Frank scowls at him. "Valdez."

Percy looks like he wants to sink into the ground.

Hazel turns to Annabeth and lowers her voice. "Silena told me what happened to you in Science today," she says quietly. "Are you okay?"

 _Grr_.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just– had me a little shaken, that's all."

"Good."

Frank is still giving Leo shifty looks. Percy slouches down in his chair and does his best to look invisible.

The stifling tension gets all a little too much for Annabeth. She pushes her chair back and presses a hand to her head. When Hazel gives her a questioning look, she feigns a headache and says, "migraine, sorry" and darts off towards the bathrooms.

She knows she's meant to be a spy and all, but she definitely had not expected the tension between Frank and Leo to be there.

She doesn't go to the bathroom immediately. She waits outside them, leaning against one of the cereal bar vending machines. School is really not all she sussed it out to be. It's like Mean Girls on steroids. She hadn't realised how different it was from High School Musical – not that she expected everyone to be singing and dancing all the time, but, you know, the occasional jazz hands wouldn't hurt – and even though Hazel had told her that they didn't really do 'cliques', or at least not to the extent of some of the YA novels Annabeth has read, there's a pretty obvious divide in the canteen.

The cheerleaders and the footballers sit at one table. The kids with the black skinny jeans and awful haircuts sit at another. The music nerds, the ones still stuck in 2011 when the Fringe™ was a thing, sit near the corner.

It's funny. Annabeth had never expected it to be this complicated.

Suddenly, someone lets out a shriek. Annabeth looks out from behind the vending machine down the corridor and into the canteen and sees what looks like two boys wrestling each other. They've both got dark hair and are wearing obnoxiously coloured shirts, but for some reason Annabeth can only focus on Brandon.

He's not doing the fighting, but he gets in the way. Somehow, he gets punched in the face, and topples backwards into a table. A couple of girls scream.

He's only the centre of attention for about two more seconds, however, until the two boys doing the fighting slam into a window and someone yells, "it's going to break!" and then everyone forgets Brandon.

But not Annabeth.

Brandon blindly stumbles out of the canteen and starts making his way towards the toilets. His hand is pressed to his cheek and blood is dripping down his arm. Annabeth knows this is her chance – and as fast as she can she darts out from behind the vending machine and into the boys' toilets. She can't hide in the cubicles – he won't do anything if he knows someone else is in here with him, even if he does think it's just a boy having a crap. Her eyes fall upon a small door next to the mirror, labelled JANITOR/STORE CUPBOARD – she remembers seeing a similar one in the toilets in Science.

Brandon is injured but he's moving fast. From the canteen to the toilets, the corridor is at least ten metres. At the speed he's going at she'll only have about five more seconds until he walks in.

There's no time to pick the lock. She has a hairpin under the base of her ponytail – always does – but the lock is big and clumsy. It would break. Without thinking, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her acid lipstick.

Four seconds.

She uncaps it and presses the head of it against lock. Immediately, it starts steaming and melting away, and internally Annabeth swears.

Three seconds.

Hopefully Brandon will be too fixated on his injuries to notice the smell of burnt iron – and the next time the janitor comes to clean the toilets he'll be too tired to notice how misshapen the lock has suddenly become.

Two seconds.

The lock falls off. Annabeth hooks her fingers inside the hole where it used to be, ignoring the way the still-hot plastic around it burns her hand. She pulls it open and tumbles inside. A mop pushes against her back and she accidentally falls inside a bucket.

One second.

She closes it just as Brandon walks in.

The first thing she can think is: _wow, that's a lot of blood_. His whole hand has been soaked, and it's still trickling down his arm. For someone who just got punched in the face, he looks a lot more injured than he should be.

Annabeth's hackles rise.

He looks around, and, after seeing that no one else is around, lets out an aggressive-sounding curse word. He takes his hand away from his cheek. The entire left side of his face is covered in blood – too much for Annabeth to properly see the mark left behind. Maybe it really _was_ a cut. She supposes the boy that punched him could have been wearing a lot of rings.

But then suddenly her eyes catch on something just underneath his eye, and she almost throws up.

It's a _flap of skin_.

Annabeth is just about to lean over and vomit when she realises that that's all it is. A flap of skin. No blood. No bruise. No nothing. Just a flap of skin. He doesn't seem to realise it's there. It doesn't seem to be causing him any pain.

Annabeth stares at it. A literal _fold of skin_ is just hanging beneath his eye and he doesn't _realise_? How does that even happen? In what universe is getting injured to the point where a flap of your skin gets ripped off and is hanging off your face _not painful_?

Annabeth is just about to lean closer to her little peephole in the door when the bathroom door opens and a couple of boys pile in.

"Brandon, dude!" one of them hollers too loudly. "You okay?"

"That's a lot of blood, bro!"

"Was it one those freaks who were fighting? We can beat 'em up if you want!"

Annabeth sighs. Her chance is gone.

Brandon and the boys start to head back out. However, just before he walks out completely, Brandon turns around to throw one of the tissues he was using to mop himself up in the bin – and Annabeth catches sight of his cheek. Which is now completely smooth.

The flap of skin is _gone_.

Annabeth tells herself she just imagined it. But something in her gut stirs uncomfortably.

* * *

So. Here's the thing.

Annabeth knows Chiron said 'no sleuthing', right. She can picture it very vividly in her mind. But he didn't say anything about _tagging_ , now, did he.

Tagging isn't anything particularly spy-like. It's simply following someone, more often than not without them knowing, and that's what Annabeth is doing. She's not doing anything _wrong_.

Except maybe she is, because she's been following Brandon for an hour now and she's pretty sure she's seen him do some stuff that she wasn't really meant to see. So far, it's been nothing discriminating (unfortunately) but on more occasions than she'd like to admit she caught him with his finger up his nose and pulling faces at homeless peoples.

Unfortunately, that's literally _all_ he's done. As soon as she could after the bathroom incident, Annabeth had gone up to him and asked if he was okay. She had given him a cookie to "make him feel better", which she is still surprised he accepted, but in it she had planted a tiny tracking device. It is designed to be digested, so now it is sitting comfortably in his stomach waiting to be excreted out.

Then Annabeth had ducked into a Seven-Eleven and bought a can of cheap auburn hairspray and some green Halloween contacts. They were a little too luminous for them to be considered natural, but as long as Annabeth didn't directly approach him she reckoned she should be fine.

And now here she is. Tagging him. Waiting for him to do something interesting.

It takes another three hours until he does it. By this time, the sky has gone considerably darker and Annabeth is pretty sure she's about to fall asleep because he is so boring. But then he parks his car outside a house and walks for half an hour before finding another, _very different_ , may she add, car, climbing in it and driving it away.

Annabeth's interest is piqued.

She checks the tracker. He's heading towards the bridge.

Annabeth takes a shortcut. He'll arrive immediately at it by the way he's going but Annabeth cuts across the green and makes it to the edge of the bridge. She arrives a few minutes after he does, but she doesn't approach him straight away. She ducks behind one of the houses – hidden away in the shadows with her dark clothes and darkening sky, it's almost impossible to spot her – and notices Brandon standing at the bridge. But he's not alone.

With him is a man a few inches taller than him. They're talking about something, but Annabeth is too far away to hear properly. She inches backwards. She'll have to do this the hard way.

The hard way is disgusting, to put it frankly. The bridge was built over a river, and Annabeth's plan is to swim through the river, climb one of the supports and wait there, so she can hear their conversation from under the bridge without them noticing her. It seems like a smart idea, until Annabeth actually gets to the riverbank.

For one, the river is absolutely freezing. It's February, so it's still pretty cold, and in the shadow of the bridge it's pitch black. Annabeth is a strong swimmer – of course she is – but she can't see a _thing_. She's wearing a lot of clothes, too, and she doesn't want to take them off because at least they'll do something against the cold. She doesn't know how deep it is, and in case she gets weighed down she wants to know if she'll be able to pull herself up.

Well. Too late now.

She dives in. It's so, _so_ cold – and also much, much deeper than she suspected. She sinks like a stone and accidentally splits her knee open on something sharp. She gasps. The current has already pulled her too far away from shore to even consider going back so instead she pulls herself to one of the supports and hoists herself up.

Her knee is disgusting. It tore right through her jeans and left a nasty cut that is probably going to get infected from being submerged in that awful water. Annabeth scales the support as fast she can – which is no easy feat, because even though Annabeth was one of the top rope-climbers back at headquarters the pole is slimy and slippery – and then grabs one of the beams on the direct underside of the bridge. She's shivering and wet and cold and she has no way down. She's far, far too weak right now to try and swim back, not against the current. And of course she can't climb over the bridge. Brandon and the man are there, and they'd ask questions if a girl (or drowned rat, 99% of scientists can't tell) suddenly climbed over.

She closes her eyes.

* * *

 **A/N: (so i may have lied this chapter was a little boring it does get better i swear)**

 **Also: BRANDON IS NOT AN OC. I REPEAT. BRANDON IS NOT AN OC. Which sounds ridiculous, because there is no one called 'Brandon' in any of the books but I can assure you he is not an OC. You will see later. I pinky-promise. While a lot of this story is sitting in unorganized shambles in my laptop Brandon is the one part that isn't.**

 **Anyway: i hope you enjoyed that! I had to write it four times and im still not thrilled with the way it turned out, but oh well. I call chapters like these 'crapters', which is a crap chapter. I hope you liked it, though. And im so sorry, the percabeth IS coming, I promise you. If not next chapter, then definitely the one after it. I've got a vague understanding of where this story is going, so hopefully it's all fine and dandy and that you guys like it :)**

 **And thank you all so much for your lovely comments! For the guest asking how many parts I planned to have I'm not actually sure, really. It's not going to be short, I'll tell you that. But really, thank you to everyone. They were all so nice to read! It gives me inspiration to write, actually, which sounds hella cheesy but is true. You guys are awesome :DDD**

 **Please tell me what you think, and I'll see you soon! Bye xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

" _i'm a walking travesty but i'm smiling at everything_ "  
\- therapy, all time low

* * *

"Hello? Is someone there?"

Annabeth blinks open her eyes blearily. Her arms have cramped from holding onto the bridge for so long and her fingers and toes are numb. It's still dark, but not a nighttime dark anymore – the sky is tinged with red, and Annabeth can tell from her countless lessons evaluating the colour of the skies depending on months and seasons and where she is on the globe that it's around three am.

"What does it look like?" Annabeth croaks.

The girl pokes her head through the gaps in the guardrail. In the darkness, the only thing Annabeth can make out is a long brown braid and a big Puffa jacket. The girl gasps when she sees her clinging onto the pole for dear life. "Oh my god! Are you okay?"

There's something about the way she says it that causes Annabeth's hackles to rise. It doesn't sound right. Nonetheless, if it gets Annabeth off this damned bridge, she doesn't really care who it is.

"Not really. Can you pull me up?"

The girl reaches her hand through the bars and with her last remaining strength Annabeth pushes herself up and grabs onto it. The girl braces herself against the poles and pulls, and Annabeth kicks around blindly to find a foothold to lift herself up with. Her boots find a little nook in the side that is only deep enough to cram the tips of her frozen toes in, but even when she's half on the brink of unconsciousness with her whole body numb she manages to lever herself up. The girl does the rest of the work. With a surprising amount of strength, she pulls Annabeth through the gaps.

Annabeth lays on her side, gasping. "Thanks," she chokes.

The girl sits beside her. Her eyes are wide with worry and something else Annabeth can't place. "Are you okay? How did you even get there?"

"I fell. And I'm okay."

"How long were you there for?"

"Uh, a few minutes?"

The girl doesn't look like she believes her. Annabeth doesn't blame her. You don't have to be a spy to notice the alarming shade of blue her fingers and lips have turned.

"Will you be okay?" the girl asks.

"Yeah." In a moment of sheer desperation, Annabeth asks, "What's your name?"

Infinitesimally, she hesitates. "Tessa."

Annabeth notices. "That's a nice name."

"Thanks. My dad picked it." She chews her lip. "You?"

"Lois."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Thanks for, you know. Saving my life."

"No problem. All in a day's work, after all."

"Ha-ha."

"I'm serious. I'm always on the lookout at three am to save teenage girls from drowning."

Annabeth cracks a half-smile. Now that she's not dangling from a bridge, she can see the girl properly. She's really pretty. Like, _really_ pretty. She's all tanned skin and long legs and multicoloured eyes and Annabeth is a bit jealous. She wishes her butt could look that good in baggy jeans. "What are you doing out this late anyway?"

"My boyfriend. My dad doesn't really, ahem, approve, of us."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"He couldn't drive you home?"

"Doesn't have a car."

"Don't you have a friend or something ready to drop you home with a lame excuse of, like, a girly 'let's paint our toenails and talk about boys' sleepover?"

The girl laughs. "No. And even if I did, I don't have my phone. I left it at home."

Hm.

"You in a rush to be anywhere?" Annabeth asks.

"It's quarter past three in the morning."

"Good point." She hesitates. "You wouldn't, uh, want to come around to mine now or anything? You don't have to, if you don't want. It's just– yeah?"

Annabeth sends a silent prayer to all her teen novels and rom-coms. She knows how to _nail_ nervous.

The girl thinks, and then lets a smile slip on her lips. "Sure. I've got nothing better to do."

"Ouch."

"Kidding."

Annabeth tries to stand up, and then almost sobs when pain skyrockets up her legs. It's so bad she has to sit back down. Oh yes. She almost forgot about her leg. She glares at the rip in her jeans.

The girl tries for a smile. "Need some help?"

"Please," Annabeth manages through gritted teeth.

Stooping down, the girl wriggles her arm around Annabeth's shoulders and helps her to her feet, politely taking Annabeth's full weight when her legs spasm and she almost collapses again without a word of complaint. Annabeth bites her tongue from spilling out a string of swearwords at the pain and tries to bear it, although the sympathetic look on the girl's face tells her that she's not doing a good job.

Together, they hobble down the street.

* * *

"Won't your parents be mad that you're out this late?" the girl asks as Annabeth clumsily hip-bumps her front door open. "Or that you're bringing a stranger back here?"

"They're in Alabama for a press conference." Annabeth dumps her keys in a pot in the bookshelf. "Greenville. They won't know. And besides, you're not a stranger. I know your name and everything."

The girl laughs. "I also saved your life."

"That, too." By now, the pain in Annabeth's leg, while still unbearable, has been numbed by the cold and after walking on it for a few minutes she's gotten used to it, so she can move around without having to rely on the girl anymore, but her toes and fingers are still frozen so it takes her several embarrassing attempts to open the kitchen door. "I'm, um, making some hot chocolate. You want any?"

"Yes, please."

The girl sits down a chair and watches Annabeth as she moves around the kitchen, digging out a Cadbury mix from the cupboard and pulling a carton of milk out the fridge. Annabeth had taken off her wet socks and shoes by the door so her toes were out in the open and then wrapped a T-shirt in the laundry basket around her leg. She uses a broomstick as a makeshift crutch, hobbling around the kitchen like a three-legged moose, and balancing to one side she pours the chocolate mix into the warmed milk. Considering she spent her entire night clinging to the underside of a bridge, she's still surprisingly agile.

But first things first. First, hot chocolate – and then, she needs to find out who the hell is sitting in her kitchen.

Annabeth pours the hot chocolate into two mugs and slides one carefully across the girl, who gladly takes it in her hands and sips at it. Annabeth eases herself into the chair across from her and lifts her cup to her lips, tentatively dipping her tongue into it.

Perfect, as usual.

A few minutes go by in peaceful silence. The girl is looking out the window. Annabeth is waiting for the feeling in her fingers to return.

Finally, she asks, "Tessa isn't your real name, is it?"

The girl sighs. "No."

"Knew it."

The girl puts down her cup. "What gave it away?"

"You were freakishly strong for a teenage girl. You were wandering the streets alone at three am, which no sane teenage girl would do, even if they did have a boyfriend. Somehow you managed to _know_ that it was quarter past three even though you claimed to not have your phone."

The girl groans. "Dammit. And here I was thinking I was doing so well."

"There's, um, more."

The groans get louder. "Bloody hell. Go on, then."

"You came home with me even though you had met me literally five minutes ago. No one does that. Especially not at three am."

Crossly, the girl sips her hot chocolate with as much aggression as one can sip with. "If Chiron asks, say that you didn't figure me out for at least another week."

Annabeth cocks an eyebrow. "Chiron sent you?"

The girl suddenly looks terrified. "Was I not meant to say that?" she gasps.

Annabeth feels something simmer in her gut. "Probably not."

"See, this is why I'm an awful spy. I mean– shoot– I said _guy_ , not spy–"

"It's okay. I think that by now we've both established that we're spies."

The girl sighs in relief. "Well, it's any solace to you, I'm very bad at being a spy, so you can have that victory."

"I'm sure you're not that bad."

"I am. But thanks anyway." She stirs her drink. "You make good hot chocolate."

"Thank you."

The girl gives her an awkward little smile. "So, um, anyway. I'm Piper, it's lovely to meet you, and you are?"

Annabeth laughs. "You don't have to pretend."

"No, um." The girl looks rather sheepish. "Chiron didn't tell me your name. Said that it could put you in danger, or whatever. He just sent me here and said to look out for a girl with brown hair. But, um." Awkwardly, she gestures to Annabeth's hair, which is streaked with ginger. The river washed out a lot of it but what's left clings to her like mould. "That changed."

"I was in disguise."

"Fair enough.

Annabeth chews her lower lip. "But, um. Back on track: how did you know it was me? There are thousands of girls with brown hair in New York."

"He may have also put a tracker on you?"

Annabeth swears and slams her hand down on the table. The hot chocolate mugs rattle. Annabeth's mug, which she hasn't properly sipped at yet, dribbles a little down the side. She doesn't care. "Dammit! I should have _known_." She's cross. She's so, so cross. Not necessarily at Piper, because it isn't her fault, but more like Chiron. Just when Annabeth thought he trusted her enough to put her on a mission alone she finds out that he put a _tracker_ on her?

"Where?" Annabeth demands. She's going to get a knife and she's going to carve the thing out of her. She will. She swears, she will.

Awkwardly, Piper reaches up and taps the back of her own head. "Um, here. He said he didn't want you digging it out."

Chiron's good. Chiron's really, really good.

He may be her adopted father but Annabeth has never wanted to strangle him more then she does know. Of course he put the tracker above a pressure plate. He couldn't have put it in her arm, could he? He had to go and put it in front of one of the most sensitive places on her body.

Stupid Chiron. She hopes he stubs his toe on a brick.

"You're not going to– try, are you?" Piper asks cautiously.

Annabeth sighs and slumps back in her chair. "No."

"Good. I've already failed the first part of my mission. It would absolutely tragic if I failed the second part."

That piques Annabeth's interest. "Second part? What was the second part?"

Warily, Piper watches her. Annabeth doesn't even blame her, really. "Before I say anything," she says, "you might want to sit down."

"I am sitting down."

"Like, proper sitting down. As in I-will-remain-seated-for-the-whole-thing sitting down."

Annabeth regards her carefully. "Piper..."

"You won't like it. But you've got to promise not to get mad. Okay?"

"Okay."

"All right." Piper takes a deep breath. "Um, Chiron sent me here to protect you." She smiles a little – a wistful, sympathetic kind of smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "You know that you got sent here for protection. But Chiron didn't trust you to keep yourself safe properly. So he sent me."

The worst part? Annabeth isn't even _surprised_.

She had thought it was weird that Chiron had sent her away like that, but she had been too caught up in the thrill that finally she was _doing something_ to dwell on it properly. She should have known. It was too soon after the accident. Chiron was like her father. There was no way he would let her out of his sight by herself to do anything even remotely dangerous.

"Are you okay?" Piper asks tentatively.

"Yeah."

"You're not, really."

"I will be. It's fine." She sniffles slightly and sends Piper a silent thank-you when she pretends not to hear. "Besides, I like high school too much. It would have been hard for me to just say goodbye, right?"

It's a lie neither of them can be bothered to point out.

Piper clears her throat and uncomfortably lifts up her mug. "I mean, I suppose there is an upside to this, after all."

Annabeth tiredly lifts her eyes. "Please, enlighten me."

Piper shrugs, but she's suppressing an excited smile and this time it's reaching her eyes and even though Annabeth feels stepped-on and trampled she can't help but laugh a little at how thrilled she is. "We're roommates now?"

Well, Annabeth is not expecting that. "What? Seriously?"

"I think so. Well." She reprimands herself. "I mean. The whole 'roommate' situation is actually your choice. Because, you know, you weren't meant to know I was a spy for at least another month. Chiron booked me a room in a motel somewhere, and I was going to stay in it until he could hire me some parents to stay in an apartment near your school, but I can contact him and tell him that it's all okay and that you recognized me from one of your classes or whatever and that we can stay together. If. You want? You don't have to. Like, no pressure. But I just thought that it must get kind of lonely in such a big house like this all by yourself – "

"How do you know I'm by myself?" Annabeth asked. "The people looking after me could actually be in Alabama on a mission."

"But they're not." Piper smiles a little bit. "Greenville is in Mississippi."

Annabeth cocks her eyebrows and grins into her hot chocolate. "You're good."

Piper smiles bashfully and Annabeth knows that's a big compliment. "Thanks," she says. She wrings her sleeves and takes another shy sip of her hot chocolate. "So, um. Was that a yes? For the roommates thing?"

Annabeth thinks – and then she nods. "Yeah. It'll be fun."

Piper beams. "Really?"

"Sure."

"Oh, that's wonderful. Thank you so much. This is going to be, like, one of the movies."

"Slow down, princess. I haven't seen how good you are at cooking yet."

"Oh, prepare to be amazed. One of my friends at my last mission was incredible, and he taught me everything. It's going to be proper awesome."

Annabeth smiles. This was hardly the way she expected her night to turn out but it might be fun. For the first time she might be able to find out what a proper sleepover is like. Absently, she wonders if Piper owns any nail polish.

"Oh, by the way, I never caught your name," Piper says. "Unless it is actually Lois in which case I apologise."

"It's not Lois. I'm Annabeth."

"Well, Annabeth," Piper says, taking Annabeth's hand and giving it an enthusiastic pump. "Are you ready for the Roommate Experience of your life?"

* * *

Annabeth actually really likes having Piper around.

They both sleep on the mattress together, because even though there is a perfectly good spare bedroom next door it doesn't have any sort of sleeping support in it. Piper's a nice person to sleep next to. She's cuddly, doesn't take all the blankets and only once so far has she accidentally pushed Annabeth off the mattress. More often they wake up much with hands in armpits and hair in mouths and faces much, much too close together, but it's okay, because both their messed-up inner clocks have synced up (much like their periods) and they generally wake up at the same time, so one doesn't awkwardly have to prise rather conveniently placed hands and legs off of themselves to get up.

Unfortunately, Piper doesn't go to Annabeth's school. To avoid raising suspicion, Chiron sent her to the posh private school a ten-minute bus-ride away. She has to wear a uniform and everything, and the first time Annabeth sees it she snorts. She's not sure if they're close enough for her to let out a proper laugh yet.

"Don't laugh at me!" Piper complains. "I don't like it _either_ , but I can't do anything about it, can I? Stupid private schools. I hate private schools."

Piper is in disguise, too, but not as much as Annabeth. She's called Contessa DeVoire and aside from brown contacts and prosthetic acne that she has to apply to her cheeks every morning with toothpaste and body glue she's been completely untouched.

She didn't even have to dye her hair. Annabeth is a little more jealous than she's proud to admit.

But in the end, everything is okay. Piper and Annabeth grow close quickly, and it even impacts the way she is now. Before she had a flat-mate Annabeth had always been a bit lonely in the evenings, but now that she's got someone to sit on the sofa with and recount all the Dramatic High School Stories to she's just kind of _lightened_. Hazel commented on it during lunch one day.

 _Percy_ even commented on it. They've been assigned English partners now, and Annabeth is actually pretty thrilled about it. They were sitting next to each other annotating one of Shakespeare's sonnets when Percy leans back a little and says, "Did something happen to you? You're looking really– really glow-y these days." Then followed the inevitable eye-widen and fumble of words that went something like, "Not saying that you haven't always! You're always really pretty! Just– I didn't mean anything rude, I promise–"

He is too busy hastily spitting out excuses that he doesn't notice Annabeth flush bright red.

Annabeth grows to really like Percy. She profiles him the second he gets sat next to her: black tousled hair. Probably doesn't brush it much. Not lazy, though – he smells a little like chlorine and he's slim and slightly muscled. A swimmer, then. The irregular tapping of his left foot and slightly vibrating of his right hand indicates ADHD. He's dyslexic, too – Annabeth can tell by the way he squints at the board. It's not shortsightedness; he's wearing jeans too faded and a hoodie too holey to care about his appearance enough to avoid getting glasses. It could be down to disorganization – the state of his pencilcase and textbooks sure show that – but he's got patches across the elbows of his hoodie and a square of what looks like a sundress going along a rip below the knee of his jeans that are too neatly sewn to be done by him. The thread matches, too. He's probably got a very loving mother back home. She would have made him get glasses if it _was_ shortsightedness. She makes up for his lack of father. Annabeth can't be completely sure, but the peeling Beatles shirt he's wearing under his hoodie looks at least thirty years old and the black material of the fabric has turned grey – probably from washing it too often. The previous owner obviously loved it lots, and no willing father would let their high-school son wear their favourite shirt. Total mama's boy, as a result of it – the patches say it all. She doesn't think he has a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. He would dress a little nicer if he did. Could have an online one, she supposes, but she doesn't really peg him as the type. He's got a Nokia poking out one of his pockets and all his pencils are old and dirty. There's also the fact that the picture on the front of his binder is of him and older woman – Annabeth reckons his mom; they've got the same face shape – and she doubts that would be the picture if he had a significant other.

There's more, obviously. But Annabeth finds out a lot by just sitting next to him - and she's not used to that. She's used to looking at a person and getting their whole life story from the clothes they wear or the way they sit or style their hair. But Percy is complicated - and she likes that.

Look.

Here's the thing with Percy. Percy's cute. Percy is _really_ cute. True to Hazel's word, he mainly hangs out with Grover, a boy on crutches with curly hair and a penchant for wearing nature-friendly T-shirts, and Jason, a boy with sandy blond hair, blue eyes and a scar above his upper lip, but every now and then across the canteen he'll catch her eyes and give her a little, shy smile.

But the thing _is_ is that Annabeth can't fall in love with him – because if he falls too, it's not Annabeth he's falling in love with. It's Lois.

She's a spy, for heaven's sake. Even if by some chance Percy does find out about her, he won't be safe. Neither will she. She's got enemies, and a lot of them, and at a young age Annabeth learnt to distance herself from most people so that her enemies couldn't latch on them and use them as blackmail.

She knows a lot of things. And with a certain someone, that's not a good thing.

Sometimes it's hard, though. Because when she's got Percy whispering things about the teacher in her ear throughout English, his warm breath tickling the side of her face, it's almost impossible to tell herself to keep her damn hormones in check.

That's all it is. Hormones. No attraction whatsoever. Just– just hormones.

Good old hormones.

"Ms Dodds looks like a Fury," Percy says to her in a low voice. Annabeth struggles to block him out. She has to stay focused.

"Shh, Percy, I'm trying to listen."

"Jackson? Watermann?" Ms Dodds looks up from the whiteboard, and Annabeth almost chokes. She really _does_ look like a Fury. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," Percy says smoothly. "Please, continue."

Ms Dodds's fingers twitch, like she wants to wrap them around his throat and throttle him. But then she must remember that he's a student and she's not exactly allowed to do that, because she forces a smile and says, "Thank you, Mr Jackson. I will."

If Annabeth thought Mr Hephaestus disliked Leo, then Ms Dodds utterly _despises_ Percy. Compared to Percy and Ms Dodds Leo and Hephy's relationship is _fantastic_.

When she turns back to the board, Annabeth hisses, "Thanks a lot, Perce."

"Sorry."

Not two seconds later he slides a piece of paper over.

Annabeth tries to ignore it. She really does. But curiosity kills the cat, after all, she looks down.

She regrets it immediately.

It's a picture of Ms Dodds with bat wings, leathery skin and fangs. It's not done well in the slightest – her body is hideously out of proportion and one of her wings is almost half the size of the other – but Annabeth thinks that makes it all more hilarious. She chokes, and when Ms Dodds whips around to give her a warning look Annabeth disguises it as a cough.

 _You can't do that_ , she scribbles down next to it. She underlines _do_ for good measure. _You keep getting me in trouble_.

Percy just _smirks_ , the little crap. Then he leans over. His breath brushes against her ear and Annabeth involuntarily stiffens.

He doesn't tell her she's beautiful or that he considers her the most amazing girl in the world. Instead, he hisses out a, "Miiiizzzzzz Wahhhh-tuhhh-munnnnn."

Long story short, Annabeth gets sent out of class for laughing so hard. Through the window she gives Percy the middle finger.

Percy also gets sent out of class when Ms Dodds catches him giving Annabeth it back.

* * *

Annabeth collapses in Piper's lap when she gets home. "I am ruined," she declares dramatically.

Piper hums sympathetically. She rubs a hand across Annabeth's head, lightly scratching her fingers across her scalp. Annabeth almost purrs. "Oh, what happened? Did you get a detention?"

Annabeth glares at her. "I'm being serious, Piper! I got sent out of class."

Piper snorts. When she catches Annabeth's look, she holds her hands up. "Hey. I mean no judgment here. This is a judgment-free zone."

"Shut up. This is serious."

"That depends on what you got sent out for."

Annabeth closes her eyes and sighs. "It was stupid Percy Jackson."

Piper's eyebrow rises. "Who's he?"

"A buttface."

" _Language_."

Annabeth tries her hardest to be cross. She swears. "Piper. Be serious for a second."

Piper lets out a little laugh. "Okay, sorry." She twirls one of Annabeth's dark curls around her finger. "How's your leg healing up?"

"Okay. No one's noticed the limp yet."

"You do realise that you don't have to hide it. You can just say you fell over."

" _Training_ , Piper."

Piper rolls her eyes fondly. They stay in silence for a while.

"Tell me about this Percy whatsit, then," she says. "What's he like?"

Annabeth hums. "He's cool," she says.

"You're gonna have to give me more than that, Chase."

"I don't know, Piper. He's– he's nice to me. We sit next to each other in English. He makes me laugh."

"Is that what got you sent out?"

Annabeth hides her face in shame. "Yes."

Piper cackles. "Oh, that's brilliant."

"Stop laughing at me! I'm meant to stay under the radar, not get sent out of class. Do you know how bad that will look?"

"Annabeth, relax." Piper starts running her fingers through Annabeth's hair. Annabeth's always been a sucker for that, and she settles her head against Piper's shoulder. "It's all part of the teen experience, right? Everyone gets sent out of class. It would be weird if you didn't."

"But– but Lois is meant to be _good_."

"Trust me, Annabeth. Getting sent out of class is positively angelic. It would be a different matter if you got expelled for disembowelling a kid during lunch, but you got sent out of class for laughing once. It's fine."

"I don't feel fine."

"Well, you're a little Negative Nelly, so I honestly wasn't really expecting anything else."

Annabeth pinches Piper's ear. "Rude."

Piper just laughs. Gently, she tugs at one of Annabeth's curls. "Percy sounds cool," she says after a while.

" 'You're gonna have to give me more than that, McLean.' "

"Shut up, you cow."

Annabeth giggles a little. "He is. Cool, I mean."

"Do you like him?"

"Yeah."

"No, I mean, like, _like_ -like."

Annabeth snorts. "What are you, five?"

"That wasn't a no."

"It wasn't a yes, either. I don't like Percy like that."

"Are you _suuuuuurrrrrre_?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Piper deflates. "Well, that's uninteresting."

Annabeth smiles. "Get used to it."

They sit in silence for a bit.

"Just saying, though," Piper adds, "if you do end up getting together I called it from Day One."

"We're not going to get together, Piper."

Piper shuffles around so she's looking Annabeth right in the eyes. "Your body language says otherwise."

Annabeth groans. "For heaven's sake, don't Study me."

Piper smirks. "You're sweating a little. Sweating is a sign of nervousness – or extreme heat or exercise, but ever since you got home you've just laid on top of me like a blanket and you're wearing just a thin long-sleeve and I haven't turned the heating up so those two possibilities are ruled out. You're also squeezing your hands into fists– no, don't unclench them– _stop_ , Annabeth, I'm trying to Study you – which, again, shows nervousness, or that you're trying to stop yourself punching me. And the only thing I've been teasing you about is Percy. If you really didn't like Percy then you wouldn't care. _Also_ –"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, shut up."

Piper leans back against the couch triumphantly. "I told you."

"I still don't like him like that. I've only known him for a few days. That's not enough time to obtain a crush."

"Love is timeless, Annabeth."

"It's _definitely_ not love."

"Also, love at first sight."

"Shut up, Piper."

* * *

 **A/N: (if anyone has listened to dirty laundry by all time low and it did the same to you as it did to me then pm me we can discuss the beauty that is alex gaskarth's vocals and lyricism holy hell that song is incredible)**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys liked that. I've come to conclusion that my style of writing is generally just very boring (im working on it promise) so I'm not gooing to put disclaimers saying "sorry this is so boring" because otherwise i'd be doing that every chapter. I want to try and improve, so you guys don't have to find out what happens by scrolling through 4k of endless description. Bear with me until then.**

 **So Piper's arrived woo! I'm actually quite pleased with the way I've written her. I hope you guys like her. I'm also a sucker for piper/annabeth friendship so BE PREPARED, the next few chapters are going to mainly consist of dumb pipabeth #bantz. You will soon realise the extent of Mia Thinks She's Funny.**

 **Also thank you for all your reviews! They were so lovely to read :)))) As always, please tell me what you thought and I'll see you soon xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

" _the tragedy of success is believing in second chances / i lie awake in my own head_ "  
\- over and out, 5 seconds of summer

* * *

"So, partner," Leo says chirpily. "My house or yours?"

Annabeth drowsily blinks her eyes open. "Sorry?"

Leo rolls his eyes fondly. "For the Science project? We're working in our lab partners. Do we want to do this at your house or at mine?"

Okay, _listen_. You can't blame Annabeth for falling asleep.

Last night Piper had a shot at making them both hot chocolate, to "repay the favour" ("although why I'd need to do that is frankly beyond me, honestly," Piper had said as she enthusiastically stirred her drink. "I've already made it up to you six times over with just the gift of my undying friendship, really."), and even though Piper is incredible at most things Annabeth doesn't think she's ever seen someone mess up making hot chocolate as much as Piper. First off, she used out-of-date milk. Then somehow she managed to get the chocolate mix confused with flour ("the boxes were the same colour! Besides, it can't be that bad. Watch, I bet it'll turn out delicious.") and then it turned out in the end the final product was closer to coffee than hot chocolate anyway.

It wouldn't have been that bad – maybe worst case scenario Annabeth had to spend a few minutes with her head down the toilet – but Piper had managed to put so much sugar and caffeine in it that neither of them could get to sleep for _hours_. Annabeth, who had only had an experimental sip, only stayed on her caffeine high until maybe eleven at night, but Piper, who had drank her entire mug (and Annabeth's, too) to prove her point just vibrated next to her the whole night.

That wasn't even the worst part.

(The worst part was the non-stop stream of nonsensical words. All Annabeth heard all night was "I wonder if pigeons have feelings do you ever think that what if I fell in love with a pigeon Annabeth would it know would it love me back hey do you think the reason people get so much acne on their backs is because in their previous life they killed someone and God just wanted them to suffer with this welt in a place that they can't reach speaking of I've actually got a giant pimple on my shoulder blade do you think I'll be able to reach it with a pair of tweezers–")

Annabeth didn't get a single minute of sleep.

(Also AP Science is very boring.)

"Lois?" Leo reminds gently.

Annabeth comes back with a start. "Yes! I agree."

"I asked a question."

"Oh. Oh, sorry." Annabeth massages her temples. "Sorry, can you repeat it? I didn't sleep well last night."

"Do you want to work on the Science project at your house or mine?"

"Oh." Annabeth adjusts her bag strap. "Do you live far away?"

"It's like a twenty-minute walk. Butterfly House? On Lloyd's Street?"

Annabeth stops. "Leo. Isn't– isn't Butterfly House a care home?"

Leo nods. "Yep."

Oh. _Oh_.

"Wow. I–I didn't know."

Leo waves a hand dismissively. "Don't worry. I've been in care since I was seven. It's okay. Will say, though, Butterfly House is incredibly noisy."

"Yeah, that's probably not a great idea." Annabeth thinks. "You can come round to mine? My cousin Contessa is staying over, sorry. She'll keep out of our way, though."

Leo nods. "Great idea! Can I have your number?"

Annabeth digs her phone out of her pocket. "Sure, wait a sec– hey, why are you laughing?"

Leo points to her phone. " _That's_ your phone?"

Suddenly, Annabeth feels the urge to defend it. "Is there a problem?"

"No! Not at all. But like– it's 2017."

"Your point?"

"iPhones _do_ exist."

Annabeth sticks her nose in the air. "Nokias are perfectly respectable."

"I'm not saying they aren't. They're classics."

"Quite right."

"Just– hasn't it _ever_ occurred to you that in life a smart phone might be the better choice?"

Oh, definitely. Annabeth has had so many smart phones she lost track a few years ago at three hundred. But she doesn't tell Leo that the reason they're so awful is because they're much, much easier to hack into than Nokias.

So all she says is, "No."

And that's that.

* * *

Annabeth is so tired she falls asleep against Percy during English.

It's more than a little embarrassing. Especially when she wakes up half an hour later and finds that in her sleep she managed to twist herself up against Percy's side like a koala, and if it wasn't so mortifying she supposes it could have been considered kind of cute.

Leo gives her a suggestive eyebrow wiggle across the classroom. Hazel looks scandalized but she still manages a weak thumbs-up.

Annabeth hopes they all burn in Hell.

* * *

They don't, unfortunately. And even though they don't explicitly _say_ anything Leo doesn't stop giving her these smug little looks during lunch and Hazel can't even look at her in the eye.

Naturally, Percy is oblivious.

Annabeth crossly shoves her spaghetti in her mouth.

* * *

Leo and Annabeth agree to work on their project after school.

Annabeth sends Piper a quick text behind her back ("im bringing someone home and you're now my cousin ok", to which Piper responds with an insufferable little _winky face_ , the brat) and then beams at Leo. "All right, you ready to go?"

"Where're you guys going?" Percy asks.

"Lois's," Leo explains, smirking. Annabeth wants to kick him in the groin. "We've got some– ah, _unfinished business_ , to take care of."

"A project," Annabeth interrupts. "It's a Science project." She glares at Leo.

Leo widens his eyes in mock-innocence. "What did I do?"

"You know what you did," Annabeth hisses.

"Oh," Percy says. He blinks owlishly and then gives them a lopsided grin that has Annabeth's heart doing something funny in her chest– _nope nopety nope nope stop it_. "Well, have fun. Or. As much as you can."

"Oh, we will," Leo says with an overly suggestive wink.

Annabeth rolls her eyes.

However, they're only a few steps out of the classroom when someone calls, "Hey, Lois? Can I talk to you?"

They turn around.

It's Brandon.

Annabeth blinks, confused. "Um, sure?" She turns to Leo. "You– um, you go ahead, I'll catch up with you in a bit."

Leo, bless his soul, looks just as confused as she feels. "Okay?"

Once he's wandered off, Annabeth turns to Brandon and puts a faux smile on her face. When she looks at him all she can think of is the blood pouring down his arm, and him clambering into a car that wasn't his. She bites her lip and thinks of the cut, inflamed and surrounded by swollen, shiny pink skin, throbbing beneath her jeans.

 _That's your fault, you jerk._

Well. Unintentionally, she supposes. Still.

"Hey, Brandon," she asks easily. "What's up?"

Brandon fidgets. Annabeth is almost shocked to find him looking slightly nervous. "Nothing much," he says. "Just– um– are you free this Friday, by any chance?"

"I– maybe, I'll need to check. Why?"

Brandon visibly gulps. "Would you– would you maybe like to come to the game?"

And.

Annabeth was not expecting that.

"I'm sorry?"

"I was just wondering," Brandon says. "It would be really nice to see you there."

"I mean–" Annabeth is still very, very confused. "I'll have to check to see if I have anything going on, but I'll, um– yeah, I'll _try_ , I guess. Sure?"

Brandon looks semi-pleased. "Cool! I'll, um– I'll see you Friday, Lois."

"Yeah," Annabeth says weakly.

He struts away. Annabeth has to hold on to a table.

She's still very, very lost. She's not quite sure what just happened.

"Lois," Hazel calls cautiously. Annabeth turns to see Hazel and Percy standing by the door. "What did he want?"

"He asked me to the football game."

Percy almost chokes. " _What_?"

"Brandon asked you on a _date_?" Hazel demands.

Annabeth begins to shake her head. "No, it wasn't– it wasn't a date."

"When a guy asks a girl to a football game it generally is," Hazel says peevishly. "And Brandon doesn't really do 'platonic' when it comes to girls."

Annabeth suddenly feels sick. "You are joking, aren't you?"

Hazel shakes her head.

"I– wait, I don't want to go on a date with Brandon!"

"Then don't," Percy says. His fists are clenched and he has two spots of colour high on his cheeks. Annabeth would Study him to see what's wrong but she still feels too dumbfounded to do anything but gape. "Ditch him."

"Isn't that a tad rude?"

Percy snorts. "I don't think he'll care."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Hazel tells him, and the spots on Percy's cheekbones darken. "Brandon will think you're playing hard to get."

Annabeth huffs. "Then what _do_ I do? Turn up? That'll make it even worse."

"You can fake your death," Percy suggests.

Annabeth snorts. If only he knew.

"I wasn't kidding," Percy says unhelpfully. "If he thinks you're dead then he can't date you, can he?"

"Foolproof," Hazel deadpans.

Annabeth sighs. "I'll think of something," she says. "I've got to go meet up with Leo anyway. I'll, um, see you guys tomorrow."

"I'll walk you out," Percy says quickly.

It's such a dumb request but because it's Percy Annabeth allows it. She gives Hazel one final smile and together they walk out of the classroom.

"You– you don't actually _like_ Brandon, do you?" Percy asks shyly.

"Of course not."

"Okay."

And that's it.

They meet Leo by the gates. "That took you long enough," he says. "What were you doing back there?" He gives Annabeth another eyebrow wiggle.

"Brandon asked her out," Percy says. His voice is tight.

Leo's jaw drops. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"Wow." He puts his hand on Annabeth's shoulder. "My sincerest apologies."

Annabeth suppresses a laugh. She looks over at Percy and gives him a little smile. "I'll see you later, Perce," she says softly.

Percy dips his head in acknowledgement and then disappears around the corner.

Leo gives Annabeth a look that she can't quite read. "Well, your afternoon has been quite the event. Let's go back to yours to numb our minds from this tragic, scarring event with some good old-fashioned Science studying."

Annabeth can't agree more.

* * *

"Well," Annabeth says unhelpfully. "This is my house. Welcome."

It's only once Leo has stepped inside does Annabeth realises how much of a dump it actually is. There are clothes all over the place. There's a bra hanging from the light fittings in the living room. The kitchen counters are covered in cereal. Annabeth gives Leo a tight smile and tries to subtly shove the pair of knickers hanging around one of the door handles into her back pocket.

"It's nice," Leo says. He steps over a broken mug. "I like it."

Annabeth's eye twitches. She had _told_ Piper to pick it up that very morning – although at that point Piper was still high off her over-caffeinated hot chocolate and vibrating like a jitterbug, so she supposes there's a reason it may have passed over her head. "Thanks."

"Lois?"

Speak of the Devil.

Piper pokes her head around the door. Her hair's been pulled back into a ponytail and she's still in her school uniform. She catches Annabeth's eye and offers a pathetic smile when Annabeth crossly gestures at the broken mug and all the clothes hanging everywhere.

"Oh!" Leo turns around and sees Piper. "Um, you must be Lois's cousin. I'm Leo."

But when Piper sees Leo she _freezes_.

It's not obvious. Annabeth is standing in a position where she can see Piper's legs tense, and because she's been trained to notice a twitch of a mouse's whisker she takes in the way her muscles jump and her fingers grip the doorframe tighter. Leo doesn't appear to have realised. But Piper's staring at him like she's seen a ghost and Annabeth is not sure if this is how first meetings are meant to go.

Annabeth clears her throat. Piper comes back with a start.

"Sorry, hi," she says. She's deepened her voice and thickened her accent. "I'm Contessa. You can call me Tess. Sorry about the mess."

"That was her fault," Annabeth says. "I told her to clean."

Leo laughs a little. "I'm used to some mess."

Piper fakes a laugh along with him and then reaches out and grabs Annabeth's wrist. "Good," she says. "Um, Lois? Can I talk to you for a second?"

Annabeth glances at Leo. He gives her an encouraging smile.

"Sure," she says.

Annabeth pulls Leo an apologetic face and allows herself to be dragged out the room. Piper pulls her to the bathroom and slams the door shut behind them, locking the door, and then sits down on the closed toilet, putting her head in her hands. She doesn't start crying but she isn't laughing either and Annabeth isn't quite sure what to do or how to react, so she decides on awkwardly perching next to her and patting her back.

"Is everything okay, Pipes?" she asks in a low voice.

"Not really." Piper inhales and exhales, and then looks Annabeth right in the eye. "I know Leo."

" _What_? How?"

"He was the boy from my last mission who taught me how to cook." Piper stands up and starts pacing as violently as she can in a tiny box bathroom. "We were– we were like best friends, Beth. It's only maybe been a few months. I didn't know he transferred schools too."

Annabeth aches for her. "What – what was your name?"

"Lizzie." Piper laughs, a hysterical sort of laugh that seems strained, too tightly stretched. "I was fair and blonde and had blue eyes and my name was Lizzie Johnson and I hated it all because in no way am I fair or blonde – I mean, look at me, does it look like I could possibly be a believable blonde – I had to wear face paint, Annabeth, proper face paint, because I'm too bloody dark to be a blonde – but Leo liked me and– he was my best friend, Annabeth, he was my _best friend_ , except no, he wasn't, he was stupid Lizzie Johnson with the blonde hair and blue eyes's best friend and I just– I didn't know how much I missed him until I saw him today because he was my first best friend and I _like_ having a best friend, best friends are so lovely to have, Annabeth, they're so, so lovely, and I want to tell him but I _can't_ because I'm not Lizzie with the blue eyes I'm Piper with the crap hair."

Annabeth hugs her and Piper clings to her fiercely. Annabeth thinks Piper is crying a little bit, but when she feels her collarbone getting a little damp she doesn't say anything. They stay there for a while, maybe a bit too long. Annabeth doesn't care.

"I kind of thought we could be best friends," she mumbles into Piper's shoulder.

Piper sniffles. "That's a wonderful idea. Do I get to paint your nails now?"

Just like that, the tension eases. Annabeth giggles a little.

"We could get married and my nails would still be off-limits, McLean."

"That's an even better idea. Let's get married."

"I mean, it'll have to be a no-homo marriage."

"Don't be ridiculous, Annabeth. It's a yes-homo marriage one hundred percent."

"My bad, sorry. I meant to say a no- _bromo_ marriage."

Piper cackles against her collarbone, and Annabeth hugs her tighter, and she knows that everything will be okay.

It only lasts a few blissful moments, however, because not five seconds later there comes a tentative knock against the bathroom door.

"Um, guys?" It's Leo.

Piper sends Annabeth a terrified look. _Did he hear us?_ she mouths furiously.

"What, Leo?" Annabeth calls. _Don't be ridiculous,_ she mouths back. _The walls are very thick._

"Um, there's someone at your door," he says back. He sounds very awkward. "She's asking if she can see the people who live here?"

* * *

 **A/N If you've already read this chapter and saw that it just got updated, it's because a very lovely guest (thank you so much by the way you absolute angel) pointed out that i had made a small mistake near the beginning, so I just changed that.**

 **Hey guys!**

 **This was a bit of an iffy chapter, i'm not too sure how i feel about it. Sorry it's so short! I wanted to end it there as a sort of cliffhanger but I didn't know how else to make it longer. Thank you all so much for all your lovely reviews! You guys are the best i love you all xx**

 **ALSO this story has 1000+ views, which is utterly insane. Thanks to everyone to has read, reviewed, liked, favourited etc. this story. You guys are all so so wonderful xxxx**

 **Please tell me what you thought and I'll see you next time :DD**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

" _we were born with nothing and we sure as hell have nothing now_ "  
\- things we lost in the fire, bastille

* * *

Piper stays behind in the bathroom to clean herself up.

It takes Annabeth exactly two seconds upon opening the door to consider joining her.

The girl standing on her doorstep is, to put it frankly, utterly terrifying. She has black hair, jeans that are made up of more safety pins and chains then actual fabric and a look in her intense black-rimmed eyes that makes Annabeth fear slightly for her safety. She looks a little like a washed out My Chemical Romance fan discovered punk, took her thick eyeliner pencil and never looked back. She's leaning against the doorway, snapping at her bubble gum like a peeved alligator, with a slightly annoyed look on her face.

"You took your time," she says irritably, straightening up. "I was beginning to wonder if you had died or something."

Annabeth blinks.

"Well, I'm here now." She breezes past her and steps inside, pulling a face at the mess. "You certainly don't look after this place well, do you?"

Annabeth snaps out of her stupor. "Hey– _wait_ , no, hold on. Who _are_ you?"

The girl ignores her, and instead fixes her steely gaze on Leo, who is hovering uncomfortably by the kitchen. "What are _you_ doing here, punk?"

Leo looks even more scared than Annabeth feels. "I– I don't... "

"Hey!" Annabeth pushes past the girl and looks at her right in the eyes – and it takes her less than a second to regret it, because the girl's eyes are electric blue and Annabeth wants to cower under their intensity. "What do you think you're doing? Who even _are_ you? Why are you in my house?"

And the girl just _shoves her to the side_. "You," she says to Leo. "Out."

" _What_?" Annabeth squawks indignantly. "You can't just kick him out! He's _my_ guest!"

"And I don't care," the girl says, acknowledging her for the first time. " _Out_."

Leo needs no convincing. With a squeak of something that sounds along the lines of "okaybyethankyouforhavingme _don'tkillmeplease_ " he grabs his coat and makes a run for it.

Annabeth stares at her. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

The girl wipes her hands down her sides as if touching Leo had given her a disease. "You can thank me later. Right now, we need to talk." Pushing past Annabeth, she breezes down the corridor into the kitchen. "Do you have any coffee?"

Annabeth is momentarily frozen to the spot, before finding her tongue and marching after her. "Hey!" she says, grabbing the girl by the shoulder. "I asked you a question."

The girl looks at her like she's six years old. "And I chose not to answer it. Now, do you have any coffee?"

Annabeth gapes. "What– who even _are_ you? Why are you in my house?"

"It doesn't matter who I am," the girl says. She's bustling around the kitchen as if she owns the place, opening cupboards and putting the kettle on. "We've got some important matters to discuss and before we do that I need some coffee."

"What do you mean _it doesn't matter who I am_? Of _course_ it does! You just– _walked_ into my house and kicked one of my friends out and I don't even know who you are, and you expect me to just– _allow_ that?"

"Yes," the girl says. "Everyone else has."

Annabeth stares at her. "I'm _sorry_? No, this is ridiculous. Get out of my house."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No. Like I said, we've got–"

"–important matters to discuss, I know! Now, get _out_!"

"Listen, _princess_ – "

"Do _not_ call me Princess."

The girl ignores her. "I am here to help you not die. You will listen to me and not speak another word, are we understood?"

"What are you _talking_ about? 'Help me not die'? What kind of crap is that?"

"It's not crap, you ungrateful brat. I'm saving your life here."

"You just marched in, forced my friend to leave and are now making coffee in _my kitchen_ without my permission and I don't even know your _name_ , and yet you call _me_ the brat."

The girl is glaring at her so intensely that Annabeth is almost afraid she's going to melt. "You'd be smart to keep your trap shut, princess. I'm doing you a favour."

"Oh yeah, and what's that? Being rude and disrespectful?"

And then suddenly there's a combat boot aimed at her stomach and Annabeth barely has the time to breathe before it's been planted in her ribs and she's being knocked off her feet.

It takes a few dizzying seconds for her to realise that she's now lying on the ground with both her elbows cut open and her kidneys feeling like they had been booted out of alignment. She props herself up and stares in shock at the girl. "Did you just _kick_ me?"

Oh, it's on. This chick doesn't know what she's messing with.

Annabeth pushes herself to her feet, ignoring the sudden lightning bolt of pain in her ribs as she stands and launches herself forwards. The girl is obviously not expecting it because she doesn't move, and Annabeth sends them both sprawling to the ground. Before the girl can move, Annabeth straddles her hips and pushes her arms down, locking her feet around the girl's thighs – until with a tremendous amount of strength the girl flips them over and pushes her elbow into Annabeth's nose and mouth. Annabeth tastes blood and she spits it in the girl's face.

The girl calls Annabeth something extremely rude and Annabeth spits at her again.

"Saving my life, huh?" Annabeth croaks out. "Good job."

Furiously, the girl aims her elbow again, except Annabeth is expecting it and manages to move her head just in time. She cranes her neck and bites the girl on the arm, the girl predictably shrieking and letting go, and Annabeth takes the chance to buck her hips and throw the girl off. She scrambles to her feet and grabs a square of kitchen towel and presses it to her bleeding nose, and then chokes out another clump of blood when the girl takes her wrist in her hand and bends it backwards behind her back, her already sore ribs pressed against the kitchen counter.

"If you break my arm I'll break your neck," Annabeth threatens thickly through a mouthful of blood. It's kind of disgusting.

"I'd like to see you try, Princess."

Annabeth slams her free elbow backwards into the girl's ribs and uses the opportunity to duck out the way blindly fumbling for anything she can find. Her fingers close around a cooking spoon lying out on one of the sides and she swings it around, catching the girl in the side.

The girl swears.

Annabeth sticks out her tongue. "Ha."

Her victory doesn't last long, because the girl's foot reaches out again at an unbelievable speed and crushes down on Annabeth's bare toes. Annabeth howls out a curse word and rams the cooking spoon in the direction of the girl's face – unfortunately, she doesn't get her in the eye or the nose, where she wanted to, but she manages to get her cheekbone and at the screech the girl lets out she knows that it's going to leave a bruise.

"Oh, that's it," the girl hisses, but before she can pounce there comes a shout.

"STOP!"

Annabeth turns to see Piper standing in the doorway looking absolutely horrified. She's not sure whether it's at her purpling foot, the blood on the ground or the fact that there's a complete and utter _stranger_ in her house, but she still feels a sick sense of relief at it. Finally. If anyone can get a lunatic out the house it's Piper.

"Oh." The girl sniffs and wipes her nose on her sleeve – it comes away red and bloody and Annabeth has to swallow down the small feeling of triumph that bubbles in the pit of her stomach at the sight of it. "McLean. Should have known you'd be here."

 _What?_

Annabeth stares at Piper, aghast. "You _know_ her?" she demands.

"I guess," Piper says faintly. "Oh, you broke the microwave. I do hope you realise that was new."

Annabeth is still trying to wrap her head around everything. "You're a spy too?" she asks.

The girl laughs mirthlessly. "You shouldn't go throwing that word around so carelessly, Princess."

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"What, before you beat me up?"

Piper snorts. Annabeth glares at her.

"I didn't know what to think! You just marched in."

"Yes, well I wasn't aware you were such a paranoid monster."

"I'm _careful_. There's a difference."

"Either way, you broke my microwave," Piper says. "You owe me."

"I'll buy you a new one."

"You better. That's your first job as an addition to Casa De Piper y Annabeth."

Annabeth's mouth suddenly goes sour. " _What_?"

"Oh!" Piper turns to her as if she had momentarily forgotten she was there. She's wearing a disgustingly optimistic look on her face and Annabeth doesn't trust her one bit. "Thalia is moving in with us!"

Annabeth blinks. "Why?"

"Don't sound so thrilled," the girl mumbles.

Annabeth glares at her. "What, you expect me to let out screams of joy at the thought of having the same punk high-school dropout who planted her foot in my lung living in my house?"

The girl rolls her eyes. "Shockingly, I'm not actually a high school dropout."

"Could've fooled me."

"Hasn't anyone told you to not judge a book by its cover?"

"Well, I tried to look inside but it kicked me to the ground, so."

Piper has a pathetic look on her face. "Look, you're already bonding," she says weakly.

"Why is she even here?" Annabeth demands.

The girl smirks. "Wouldn't you like to know, princess?"

Annabeth scowls at her. "I would, actually. And don't call me princess."

To Annabeth's utter annoyance, the girl simply throws back her head and laughs.

"Thalia's a friend," Piper says quickly. "She needed a place to stay."

"Piper."

"I swear!"

"Does she not know?" the girl asks, propping her feet up against the table.

Annabeth looks at Piper. "Know what?"

"Nothing," Piper squeaks. She's gone very, very red.

The girl looks confused. "Wait, but Chiron–"

"Chiron? What has Chiron got to do with this?" Annabeth asks.

"You know Chiron?" the girl says.

Annabeth is slightly insulted. "Of course I know Chiron. He's like my father."

"So you do know." The girl looks back to Piper. "But you said–"

"It doesn't matter," Piper squawks.

Annabeth feels something simmer in her stomach. "Piper, what's going on?"

"I don't see what the big deal is," the girl says. She's still talking to Piper. "She knows, what's the problem?"

"What do I know?" Annabeth demands.

The girl finally looks at her. "That you're in danger. That's not news to you, is not?"

"No. But what has that got to do with y–?" Suddenly, Annabeth feels like she's swallowed a cough drop whole. She stares at Piper, aghast. "Piper, _no_."

"This is why I didn't want you to know," Piper mumbles.

Annabeth whirls on the girl. "You're here to protect me?" she shouts. "Is that what Chiron sent you for? So you can bloody keep me _safe_? To make sure I don't _die_?"

Finally, _finally_ , the girl begins to look a little awkward. "Um, yeah?"

Annabeth stays very still. She's afraid that if she dares move, if she breathes too heavily, she might very well erupt.

She's furious. No, not furious, she's _seething_. She's a live volcano and she wants to explode right now, wants to coat everything in lava and watch it crumple. How could Chiron _do_ this to her? Yeah, she gets it. She's in danger. Sending her halfway across the country with a new identity should have been enough but _no_ , because since she's obviously not a trained assassin who got taught the proper way to dissemble someone before she could even walk or anything she needed someone to follow her and keep her safe. And yeah, that hurt a little. The fact that Chiron didn't think she was capable of keeping herself safe was a little poisonous but she managed to keep calm about it, because it turned out that her protector was actually pretty cool and that she might have made a new best friend out of it. So yes. She gets it. But now, she finds out that oh, no, poor vulnerable little Annabeth is too gentle and delicate for just one protector, she needs _two_ , one being a scary bully in thick eyeliner and safety-pinned jeans.

She feels betrayed. She feels betrayed and she thinks it might be worse then a bullet to the leg.

"Are you– okay?" the girl asks awkwardly. Annabeth glares at her half-heartedly. The stark kitchen lights must highlight the unnatural sheen to her eyes, before the girl's eyes widen dramatically and she says, "Oh, no, are you going to _cry_? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry–"

"I'm not going to cry," Annabeth says stiffly. She is.

She turns to Piper. "I'm going to bed now."

Piper glances at the clock on the wall. "But, it's only, like, four thirty."

"I'm going to bed now, Piper," Annabeth says in a harder voice.

"Oh. _Oh_." Piper looks at her with soft eyes. "I'll be up soon, okay?"

"Okay."

Annabeth leaves the kitchen. Her ribs ache and the pain in her foot is horrendous but she keeps walking on it because she wants something to distract her with. However, once she's out the door, she leans against the wall and listens in.

She's still numb. But it might help.

"I didn't realise it was a sore subject," the girl says uncomfortably.

"Too late now."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I mean, it is. But like. Indirectly."

"Gee, thanks, Piper."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I do."

There's a small silence.

"I mean, I get it." That's Piper. "You must, too."

"She almost broke my cheekbone. Until I get a good night's rest I'm don't trust myself to have a non-biased opinion on her."

"You know what I mean. I don't know what happened to her, but it must be quite severe, because the amount of protection Chiron put on her insane."

"Shouldn't she be grateful?"

"Would you? She must feel so useless."

"I guess."

"Be a little more empathetic, Thalia. Come on."

"No, I know what you mean. I just– she's a little full of herself, isn't she?"

" _Thalia_!"

"She is, though. Look at her. She's got all this protection on her and she's not even the slightest bit grateful."

"Shut up, Thalia. She's a spy."

"Yeah, well, so am I."

"That's different."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"You don't really have a heart. Annabeth is pretty sensitive when it comes to these things, and for a good reason, too. I mean, think about it. She's been training since she came out the womb, practically – don't give me that look, I had a flip through her records– no _stop_ , Chiron said I could – and Chiron's treating her like a little kid. How would you feel?"

"I would be pretty damn thankful, actually."

"Would you stop being so _arrogant_ , Thalia?"

"Look, McLean. I'm not sure about you, but I'm not actually thrilled about being the babysitter of some pathetic crybaby, okay? Annabeth is not my friend, and neither are you. Annabeth is my mission and you are my colleague. That is all. I don't really care about her feelings. To me, she's a selfish brat, and you're just a girl I sat next to in Comms who cuts her own hair. Okay?"

"You don't have to be such an arsehole about it! I get that we're not friends but think about Annabeth."

"She does it enough for two people."

" _Thalia_!"

"What?"

There comes a small pause. "You really don't get it, do you?" Piper asks finally.

"Get what?"

"Protection isn't just about fighting off all the bad guys."

"That's actually kind of exactly what protection is."

"No, Thalia. Protection is about defending someone because you love someone."

"Don't give me any of this Disney crap, McLean. If you want to talk about playing nice with someone, talk to your little friend. She's the one who pushed a bloody cooking spoon into my eyeball."

"You kicked her first!"

"She was asking for it!"

Annabeth doesn't hear the rest of their conversation. She heads off to bed, curls up on the mattress and cries until she falls asleep.

* * *

The morning is kind of dismal.

Annabeth actually forgets about Thalia for a second. She isn't attending school at the moment so she doesn't have to be up as early as Piper and Annabeth. Annabeth sits at the table, mechanically eating a bowl of cereal, feeling a little down but not quite sure, when Thalia drags herself in, her eyeliner still perfect even at six in the morning, and slumps down in one of the chairs near Annabeth.

Grumpily, Annabeth huffs. Now she remembers.

"You're an awful spy, by the way," Thalia says.

Annabeth gives her a dead look. It's too early in the morning for this. "Gee, _thanks_."

"No, I didn't–" Thalia massages her temples and closes her eyes. "I mean– not like that. It's just– I saw you outside the kitchen yesterday. When Piper and I were talking."

"Oh." Annabeth stirs her cereal. Her cornflakes are soggy. She doesn't really care.

"You don't try very hard to keep yourself hidden, you know."

"Yes, well, not everyone's you, are they?"

"Play nice," Piper calls from the living room.

Annabeth rolls her eyes.

Thalia taps her spoon against her plate. It's not an even rhythm and Annabeth's eye twitches. "I–I'm sorry," she says finally. "About what I said."

Annabeth snorts. "You're only sorry you got caught."

"I mean, yeah, but also– I shouldn't have said those things."

"Yeah."

"I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did. It's okay."

"It's not, really."

"No, it's not. But it will be. I don't care."

Thalia studies her. "Yes you do."

"Well, I'll stop caring soon."

"You're not a brat."

"It's okay."

"You're not."

"I am, a little."

"I mean, not any more than I am."

"You got that right."

Thalia huffs through her nose, a kind of snuffly teacher I'm-so-sick-of-everything huff that sounds a little like she's got a cold. "I'm trying to apologise. Don't make this harder for me."

"Sorry. Continue."

"That was it, actually."

"Wow."

"I don't apologise a lot, okay?"

"I figured as much."

"Don't make me regret this, Chase."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

They examine each other with smirks.

Thalia is the first to make a move. "So... are we cool?"

"Not really. We will be, though."

"Okay."

"Okay."

They're okay.

* * *

Well. Ish.

"Leo!" Annabeth calls. "Leo, wait up!"

Leo looks a little terrified, but to his credit he does slow down. Annabeth's not a fool, though. She sees the way his fingers tighten around his books.

"Hey, Lois," he says. "How– how are you?"

Annabeth cuts right to the chase. "I'm really sorry about yesterday, Leo."

"It's okay."

"It's not though, not really. She shouldn't have kicked you out like that. I'm so sorry. That was my other cousin" – Annabeth blindly thinks for a name – "uh, Agatha. She was meant to arrive next week. She recently dyed her hair black – it used to be blonde – so that's why I didn't recognize her. That was rude and I'm so sorry that you got treated like that."

Leo smiles a little. He's eased up. "It's okay. Was kind of funny, actually."

"You were almost peeing your pants. I doubt it."

"I wasn't."

"Yes, you were. It's okay. I won't tell anyone."

Leo rolls his eyes. "Oh gracious Lois, how will I ever repay you for protecting my masculinity like this?"

Annabeth tries for a winning smile. "By doing the rest of the Science project by yourself?"

Leo laughs. "Nice try."

* * *

"I'm going to the game on Friday," Annabeth announces.

Percy chokes on his sandwich.

Leo looks alarmed. "Wait, are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Of course not. But yesterday Hazel said that if I don't go Brandon will think that I'm playing hard to get, and that's not what we want at all."

"But if you _do_ go he'll think you like him!" Percy protests.

"Which I don't, so you have nothing to worry about. Besides, I'll make sure to friendzone him."

Leo starts to laugh.

"What?"

"Lois, this isn't 2014."

Annabeth is slightly wounded. "What do you mean? I thought the friendzone was legit."

"It _was_. Like, three years ago."

Annabeth frowns. "Well, it's either that or I _do_ end up dating Brandon and become so clingy he starts to despise me and eventually dumps me."

Percy lets out a strangled noise. "Friendzone. _Please_."

"You're kind of screwed," Leo says gravely. "Either way is unfortunate."

"The amount of faith you have in the friendzone is frankly a little insulting."

"That's because it's not going to work."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. It'll only make Brandon try harder."

Annabeth huffs. "There has to be a point where it gets too hard."

"Not with Brandon."

Weakly, Percy raises his water bottle. "I still vote friendzone."

"Yes, well, that doesn't count. Until you remove yourself from up Lois's rear end you don't get an opinion on what she does with her love life."

Percy flames right up to his ears.

"That's a dumb reason," Annabeth says. "Percy, join me. Tell Leo the friendzone is a good idea."

"It's really not, though," Leo says. "You don't understand, Lois. Brandon likes a challenge. If you don't show up he'll think you're playing hard to get. If you do show up and friendzone him he'll do everything he can to get out of it – but then again, if you show up and cling to him until he gets sick of you you'll have to date him for a certain period of time, and I doubt that's very safe."

"Who knows what diseases he's carrying," Percy says. "That's why I vote friendzone."

Leo huffs. "You are useless."

Annabeth chews the inside of her mouth. "What if I say I'm already dating someone?"

"But you're not," Leo says.

"So? Brandon doesn't have to know. He may be a bit of a butt, but I doubt his lack of morals goes so far as to make him sabotage a relationship to get a girl. Especially when the girl is me. It all seems a bit unnecessary. Which is why I turn up to the game with someone in tow and say 'yo, I invited my boyfriend, that cool' and then Brandon can't do anything."

Thoughtfully, Leo chews on a chip. "That's– not a bad idea."

"Who would be your boyfriend?" Percy asks.

"Well." Annabeth puts on her best pleading face. "I was hoping maybe one of you?"

"Absolutely not," Leo says immediately.

Annabeth is slightly insulted. "Don't sound so eager, jeez."

"Oh, it's not you. It's just that I can never be sure if Brandon has recently been vaccinated against any nasty diseases and because I'd like to maintain my glamorous image I'd rather not catch something off him, you know?"

I mean.

Fair enough.

Annabeth turns to Percy. "Percy?"

He looks a little uncertain. "I– Lois, I don't..."

"Please?"

"You're doing so well, Percy," Leo tells him encouragingly. "Look, you can see the light ahead."

"Percy?"

Percy sighs. "Fine. I'll do it."

Leo rolls his eyes. " _Jackson_."

"Thank you so much," Annabeth says genuinely. Before she can help herself, she pushes herself up and presses a kiss against Percy's cheek, and then when she realises what she did goes as red as a tomato. "Great! So now I'm all Brandon-proof."

"Woo," Percy says weakly. He holds a hand against his cheek and then stares at it, like he can somehow see Annabeth's kiss lingering on his fingers.

"Marvellous," Leo says. "Now, if you lovebirds would stop third-wheeling me, we can get down to proper business. Percy, my man – have you done the Chemistry?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Excellent. I need to copy."

* * *

It's eleven pm, the room smells of nail polish and Annabeth is utterly ecstatic.

She has never felt more like a teenager. There's a Taylor Swift album on play, scented candles lining the windowsill and all the lights dimmed, torches and fairy lights precariously strung up on chairs and balanced next to them on the mattress. Piper is carefully painting Annabeth's right hand a dark blue and Annabeth is explaining to her what happened in school.

"Oh," she says. "I almost forgot. I'm going on a date on Friday."

Piper hums absently. "Who with?"

"He's called Brandon."

That catches her attention. She sits bolt upright, almost knocking the bottle of nail polish off the mattress. " _What_? What about Percy?"

"Oh, he's coming too."

Piper blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"It's complicated."

"Don't give me that. We're having a girly sleepover. No information remains secret."

"Well." Annabeth crosses her legs, ignoring Piper's indignant squawk as she almost tips over the three other open bottles of nail polish. "There's a boy called Brandon, right? And he's– well, he's actually a little shifty."

"As in 'I like sneaking into changing rooms and smelling girls' PE kits' shifty or 'I'm not to be trusted' shifty?"

"I'm not to be trusted. I don't know, there's just something off about him. Anyway, yesterday he asked me on a date."

Piper looks affronted. "And you didn't think to _tell_ me?"

"It wasn't a big deal. Still isn't. So he asked me on a date, if I wanted to go to the football game with him. I really didn't want to because I don't like football and I don't like him but Hazel – she's the girl I was telling you about – told me that if I don't show up he'll think I'm playing hard to get."

"What a cow."

"I agree." Annabeth watches as Piper moves on to her thumbnail. "It was a catch 22, really. But then I found a loophole, which was if I already had a boyfriend. Thus, Percy is going to pretend to be my boyfriend so Brandon backs off."

Piper has a glint in her eye that Annabeth doesn't like. "Riiiiiiiight. I _see_."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing." Piper innocently picks up a purple nail polish. "I just find it quite the coincidence how it's _Percy_ who ends up being your fake boyfriend."

Annabeth huffs. "I told you, I don't like Percy like that."

"You may be a spy, Chase, but you're an awful liar. You aren't fooling anyone."

"I _don't_ , I swear."

"Sorry, can't hear you over the pounding of your heart."

Annabeth's eye twitches. She can think of exactly sixty-three ways she can kill Piper using just the things in this room. If Piper doesn't shut up she's going to experience all of them.

"Don't even thinking about plotting my demise either," Piper adds on. "It only further proves my point."

However, just as Annabeth is about to throw nail polish all over Piper's head, she hears footsteps outside the bedroom. A few moments later, the door creaks open.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

It's Thalia, in all of her bed-head glory.

Piper shrugs, like it's obvious. "Having a sleepover?"

"It's eleven-thirty. On a _school night_."

"So?"

" _So_?"

"Don't be such a worry-wart," Piper says, focusing her attention back on Annabeth's hand. She's using a beauty blender to give Annabeth's nails a coloured gradient from blue to purple, and considering how much nail polish she has gotten all over herself and the floor it doesn't look too bad. "Come join us."

Thalia sniffs haughtily. "No thank you. I've got much better things to do then sit around discussing b–" She pauses. "What _is_ this?"

"Taylor Swift," Annabeth pipes up. "Red. You just missed 1989."

"We're going in reverse," Piper explains. "If you come back in about an hour we'll be fully submerged in country."

Thalia rolls her eyes. "This is only more reason for me to not stay."

"Please do," Piper implores. "I've got a whole collection of nail polish, and Annabeth bites her nails down to little stubs so she's barely made a dent in any of it. Look!" She throws the beauty blender at Annabeth, smearing violet across her nose and fumbles around in her box. "I even got black nail polish! There's sparkly, matte, shiny – this one is cracking nail polish, which looks super cool if you have something like green or purple underneath it – and this one has blue glitter pieces in it and this one is my favourite because it changes colour depending on your body temperature! But it changes shade of black, so you don't have to worry about your aesthetic being exploited by peppy cheerleader colours, you know?"

For a second, Thalia actually looks a little tempted. Then she shakes her head, tells them that if they dare stay up past three am she'll rip their guts out through their nostrils and walks out, slamming the door behind her.

"She's so extra," Piper says fondly. "Give it twenty-three seconds."

Piper experimentally dabs the beauty blender on Annabeth's fingernails. Taylor Swift wails out All Too Well behind them and the room smells like vanilla from the candles. On the walls, their shadows flicker.

The door flings open.

Annabeth stares at Piper in amazement. "Twenty-three seconds. That's incredible."

"Move up," Thalia says. Annabeth obediently shifts a little bit to the side and Thalia plops down on the mattress next to her. "You're painting my nails next, McLean. But can we please turn off this awful music?"

"Utterly not," Annabeth reprimands. "We haven't even got to Speak Now yet."

Thalia grumbles.

Annabeth thinks she can learn to love Thalia. Their legs are pressed together, Annabeth's blotchy from the fake tan she had to apply and Thalia's pale and glowing in the dark, and she smells of laundry detergent and sleep. She's wearing a ripped-up Led Zeppelin shirt that shows a lot of her collarbones and a soft pair of shorts, in mismatching reindeer socks that show lots of her long skinny legs. She isn't wearing makeup, and Annabeth almost does a double take when she realises – when her eyes aren't ringed in eyeliner akin to that of a My Chemical Romance fan currently in the process of sucking the life out of The Black Parade she actually looks quite pretty.

Huh.

Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

(Well.

When she's not waking the entire apartment block up at five in the morning with Radio Revolution turned up as high as it will go.)

* * *

 **hey friendos how are we all? I made this chapter extra-long (it's almost 6k holy cow) to make up for the awful one last time (you guys were so so wonderful about it but honestly Chapter 4 was utterly disgraceful. We don't talk about Chapter 4. It's the dark side of Fanfiction).**

 **also im so very sorry for throwing all these new characters on you. That was the last one, I promise. From now on everything is just plot, Percabeth and #pipabeliabantz. No more characters to throw at you.**

 **But SPEAKING OF how did you like Thalia? I'm more than a little pleased with the way she turned out. This has to be my favourite chapter so far, I think – and Thalia might have to be my favourite character to write. I don't know, I just find her really fun. I hope you like her (honestly though).**

 **ALSO next chapter's going to be pretty cool. no spoilers or anything but 98% of it is Percabeth fluff. Like, so much Percabeth fluff you might just get a toothache. So buckle in amigos we're going on a ride.**

 **Anywho, i hope you all enjoyed that! In standard Mia please tell me what you thought and I'll see you all soon! Byeeee xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

" _i might never be your hero but i think i'd like to try_ "  
\- someone you like, the girl and the dreamcatcher

* * *

Annabeth knows she's done something wrong the second she walks into the kitchen and Piper looks up from her toast and gives her a judgmental look.

"What?"

Piper's eyes narrow into slits. "You're not going out wearing _that_ , are you?"

Annabeth looks down at her clothes slightly self-consciously. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" She had chosen a plain grey T-shirt, a pair of jeans and some ordinary sneakers. She didn't think she looked that bad.

"Well, for starters, you've got an orange juice stain down the front of your shirt."

"You can hardly see it."

"Mmm."

"I personally can see it quite clearly," Thalia chimes in unnecessarily. "It looks a little like Virginia."

"Shut up, Thalia," Annabeth says shrewishly.

Thalia just laughs. "What's the big deal, anyway? Piper's never put up this much of a fuss before – and trust me, there have been many occasions you've walked out that door looking pretty damn awful."

"Gee, _thanks_."

"Annabeth's got a date," Piper explains, buttering up another slice of toast. "It's _quite_ a big deal."

Thalia turns to Annabeth, looking almost impressed. "How on earth did you manage that, Chase? You've barely been here two weeks."

"With two boys, too," Piper adds.

"Crikey, you move fast."

"It's complicated," Annabeth says.

"I'm not sure I want you to explain it."

"Excellent, I'll do it," Piper butts in. "So, _basically_ –"

"It really doesn't matter," Annabeth says. "Look, I'll change my shirt and then we'll go, okay?"

"Also change your bra," Piper calls, raising her voice as Annabeth heads towards their bedroom. "You can't go on a date in a sports bra, that's utterly unacceptable."

* * *

Annabeth has been at the game for ten minutes and she already feels like strangling someone.

Percy, predictably, is late, and Brandon is out on the football field talking to some of the players. Annabeth has tried to avoid him ever since she arrived and she thinks that so far she's done a pretty good job – as soon as she had spotted him, she had pulled her hood up over her head (she did have a can of emergency black hair spray in her bag, but she didn't think it was considered normal to start spraying your hair in the middle of the pitch) and scampered as quickly as she could up the bleachers.

She's never been to a school game before – or at least not properly. There was that one time in Utah where she almost got beheaded underneath the bleachers (fun times) a few years back but it's never been the full thing. All of her experience comes from movies, books and the You Belong With Me music video – and after all her novels had let her down in explaining high school she didn't really bet on it.

Turns out, they weren't actually that far off.

It's not an ideal day to have a football game, if Annabeth is being perfectly honest. The spring is just beginning to arrive so it's still pretty cold, and it had rained the previous night so the bleachers are wet and the pitch is muddy and slippery. Despite it all, there is a huddle of cheerleaders in tiny white and blue dresses talking amongst themselves like a flock of well-manicured peacocks with ponytails and pompoms. The Marino team are stretching on the field, and Annabeth can see a group of boys in a football kit that she doesn't recognize doing pushups by the bleachers on the other side.

Annabeth sighs and tucks her hands under her thighs.

Suddenly, she looks up and sees Brandon looking at her. His face brightens and he starts heading over to her.

 _Crap_.

Blindly, she fumbles for her phone.

 **Lois**  
 _where are you_

 **Lois**  
 _percy_

 **Lois**  
 _code red_

 **Lois**  
 _code red code red code reD_

"Hey Lois!"

Annabeth looks up from her phone and forces a smile onto her face. "Hey, Brandon!"

"I'm glad you made it!" Brandon swings down next to her. Annabeth wants to shuffle away from him, but that would be quite rude and she'd also fall off the bleachers. He leans in close to her, like what he's about to say next is a big secret, and Annabeth gets hit straight in the face by a blast of minty toothpaste breath and overpowering cologne. "I've been looking forward to this about all week," he admits shyly.

Oh no. Now Annabeth feels bad.

She tries for a winning smile. "So have I." _Not believable enough_. "I just– sorry, I'm just really excited."

Brandon gives her a fond smile.

 **Lois  
** _PECRY WHERE ARE YUIU_

A whistle goes off. Annabeth looks away from Brandon's eyes just in time to see a ball get kicked and boys in red and blue T-shirts chase after it like dogs. Someone behind her whoops. The cheerleaders start their routine, kicking mud everywhere when they aerial in canon and shedding pompom strands all over the field.

Annabeth absolutely _loves_ it.

The only downside is that she's absolutely _freezing_. Normally she can handle temperatures as cold as -20°C (perks of spy training) but for some reason today she's hyperaware of everything and her arms prickle up in goosebumps. She rubs them absently. She should have brought a thicker jacket.

"Are you cold?" Brandon asks her.

Annabeth gives him a little shrug. She knows what he's going to do if she says yes. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure? 'Cause I can give you my jacket if you wan–"

"Hey, Lois!"

Both Annabeth and Brandon turn.

It's Percy. He pushes past a group of whooping boys and ungracefully clambers up on the bench next to her, giving her a wide smile. He's wearing a blue sweater that makes his eyes sparkle and his hair has been tousled slightly from the wind. "Hey," he says again, dimpling a radiant smile her way, and then leaning past her to give Brandon a small wave. "Hey, dude."

Brandon looks a little confused. "Uh, hey?"

Percy beams at him and then slings his arm around Annabeth's shoulder. "Who's winning?"

"Lancaster," Annabeth tells him. "Marino's behind by a point."

"Tragic."

Annabeth suppresses giggles.

"Lois," Brandon says tightly. Annabeth can hear the strain in his voice. "Who's this?"

"We've been in the same Maths class for two years," Percy says mildly.

"Right. Sorry, Jacob."

"Close. Percy."

"Brandon," Annabeth says weakly. What she had been hoping to achieve with her plan was upon Brandon realizing that she wasn't, in fact, a Single Lady, he would leave her alone. Unfortunately, it looks like he's closer to punching Percy's daylights out. She subtly pinches Percy's hand to tell him to stop being cheeky. "This is my boyfriend."

Brandon's lip curls. "Boyfriend."

"Almost a year now," Percy says proudly. "Right, babe?"

"She only just moved here."

"Long-distance," Percy explains. "We met at a ski lodge, didn't we?"

Annabeth fakes a smile. "Yeah."

The idiot is using the stupid High School Musical plot. If Annabeth wasn't so endeared she might have smacked him.

"Oh." Brandon's mouth tightens. "You didn't tell me you'd invited your boyfriend, Lois."

"Must've slipped her mind," Percy interjects before Annabeth can say anything. "Silly mistake. Can you blame her, though?" He gives her a look that would normally turn her bones to syrup but he's got this mischievous sparkle in his eyes that Annabeth doesn't trust one bit. "I am quite extraordinary. Every time she tried to bring me up she went into a daze about how incredible I am."

Now he's just being ridiculous. "Indeed," Annabeth says. She presses her heel against Percy's foot. "Sorry, he's in a bit of a mood. I did mean to tell you, I promise, but I just kept forgetting."

Brandon sneers. "Doesn't seem like that much of boyfriend if he's that forgettable."

Annabeth gives him an icy stare. "Jealousy isn't a good look, you know."

"Come on, Lois. You have to see it, too. Why on earth would you want to date him? He's a loser. I bet you don't know anything about him."

Percy laughs humourlessly. "I love how you say that as if you do."

"You'd be surprised, freak."

"Quite right. You didn't even know my name."

"I know a lot more then you'd think."

"Yeah, okay. Like how I'm called Jacob, right?"

Brandon gives Percy a look and suddenly Annabeth's blood solidifies to ice. That can't be Brandon. Is he a jerk? Absolutely – but the fire in his eyes is something Annabeth sees when she looks into the eyes of a psychopath with a gun. Something isn't right. That isn't the look of a teenage boy. That's the look of a terrorist.

"How about we start with your dad?" Brandon asks coolly, and Percy's arm around her shoulders tenses up like all his muscles have turned to metal. "I bet Lois doesn't know anything about that."

Percy starts trembling. Annabeth can feel his leg pressed tightly against hers begin to quiver. "You don't know anything."

"I wouldn't be sure."

Annabeth stands up. There's blood pounding against her ears. "That's _enough_."

Brandon looks mock disappointed. "Oh, but we've only just started."

Annabeth growls. "If you value your teeth I would suggest you shut up."

"Drop it, Lois," Percy mutters.

"No, I _won't_ drop it! Do you _hear_ what he's saying?"

"Aw," Brandon coos. "Look at you, Jackson. Can't even fight your own battles."

For a moment, Annabeth doesn't care about keeping a good reputation. She doesn't care that she's a spy. For a moment she doesn't have control of her body, and it only takes a moment for her to lunge forward and smack him straight in the face.

Brandon recoils. Everyone sat around them turns around and stares at her. Percy looks horrified. The fire in Brandon's eyes has died and he begins to look more like a teenage boy, but the stiffness in Percy's shoulders and the sting in her hand remind her what just happened.

Brandon stares at her in shock. "Did– did you just–"

"I'll have you know," Annabeth interrupts snippily, "that Percy is an _incredible_ boyfriend."

Finally, _finally_ , Brandon must hear that he's hit a nerve. His eyes widen. "Oh, Lois, I didn–"

"Yes, you did," Annabeth says curtly. "And I'd appreciate it if you kept your negative opinions about my boyfriend to yourself from here on out because they are unnecessary and frankly they make you look a little like a jealous five-year-old. Thank you." She stands up. "Come on, Perce."

Percy looks a little nervous. "Lois–"

"Marino's going to win," Annabeth tells him. It's actually kind of obvious. Lancaster is three points ahead of them, but they're far too cocky for their own good. At one point they're going to trip up on their arrogance and become lazy. Marino was always going to win. "Five to three. Jason Grace is going to be named star player. Lancaster player with the frizzy hair is going to try and twist his ankles off when the game ends but he'll be stopped by the coach and banned for the rest of the season. Now you know what's going to happen. Come on, let's go."

Percy goes without complaint.

* * *

"Thanks, by the way," Percy says awkwardly. "For sticking up for me."

"It's okay. Brandon's a pig."

They've been walking for a while. Annabeth isn't quite sure where – just drifting from street to street – but it's nice. Comforting. Percy's nose has gone slightly red from the cold and Annabeth's pretty sure her fingertips are blue but she doesn't think she'd rather be anywhere else.

"I just–" Percy sighs and looks up at the sky. "I don't know how he even _knew_ that stuff."

Annabeth doesn't ask. She knows he'll tell her in his own time.

"I'm sorry," she says.

Percy gives her a look. "It's not your fault."

"Feels like it is. And anyway, I was the one who dragged you to the game."

"And it was incredibly gracious of myself to accept. Besides, it was for the greater good. We were doing it so you didn't end up roped into dating him."

Annabeth shudders. "Gross."

"I quite agree. That side would have come out sooner or later. He would have caught you talking to Leo or something and made assumptions, and then crapped all over him to make it seem like he was the better person."

Annabeth winces. "I'm sorry."

Percy stops her. " _Hey_. It's not your fault."

"I know. But it just– he shouldn't have said that stuff."

"No, he shouldn't, but you had no way of controlling that."

"And _he_ had no way of knowing about your dad but look what happened."

"I mean." Percy shrugs a bit. "It was on the news, so maybe he recognized me. It doesn't matter, anyway."

Annabeth's subconscious's ears prick up. Annabeth tells it to shut up.

"It does, a bit," she says. "But it's all over now. You're okay."

"Yeah." Percy nods, and for the first time Annabeth realises how close they are. If she wanted, she could reach out and tangle their fingers. "I am."

They're quiet for a while. Percy's a bit taller than her. If Annabeth wanted to kiss him she's probably have to stretch up on her tiptoes. Would his hair be soft? Would it be his first kiss? Where would he put his hands?

 _Whoa._

Annabeth blinks. Not for the first time, she is so incredibly grateful that no one can hear her thoughts. _Down, boy._

She clears her throat. "So," she says. "Fancy anything to eat?"

Percy gives her a shameful, apologetic kind of smile. "Um. I haven't got any money."

"My treat."

Immediately, Percy shakes his head. "Utterly not."

Annabeth is crestfallen. "What? Why?"

"Because! Do you know how emasculating it is to have the _girl_ pay on the first date?"

 _First date first date first date firstdatefirstdate_ _f_ _i_ _r_ _s_ _t_ _d_ _a_ _t_ _e_ _f_ _i_ _r_ _s_ _t_ _d_ _a_ _t_ _e._

Annabeth swallows the impending blush. "Okay, scumbag, _listen_."

Percy laughs. "Kidding."

"Good." Annabeth gives him a pointed look that has Percy suppressing a snort into his sweater sleeve. "I was about to break out the Feminist Big Guns."

"Terrifying."

"Don't mock. It would have been."

"I'm shaking in my shoes."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "Look. If it makes you feel any better this isn't even my money. I stole it from my cousin."

"Scandalous."

"Do you _want_ me to leave you here?"

Percy barks out another laugh and Annabeth fondly watches as his eyes crease into happy green slits. His laugh probably has to be her favourite thing. Ever.

"Okay, okay," he says. "Spoil me."

"Watch me."

* * *

"McDonalds. Classy."

"Shut up."

* * *

"So," Percy says, after they've found a table to sit down at. "I suppose you want to know about my dad."

Annabeth shrugs. "Only if you're okay with telling me."

"I am." Percy laces his fingers around his drink. He cracks a small smile. "I feel like this is the part in a rom-com where the male love interest shares his angsty sob story."

Annabeth laughs. "That depends on how angsty it is."

"Oh, incredibly so. This is the product of all of my stereotypical shattered teenage hopes and dreams."

"Woe is you."

"Indeed. You should see me at home. I sit in my painted-black bedroom with My Chemical Romance in the background wearing lots of eyeliner and black clothes whilst screaming 'no one understands me!'"

Annabeth nods seriously. "Tragic."

Percy laughs. His foot taps against the ground – his ADHD is acting up again. Annabeth sympathizes. She had ADHD growing up. Chiron managed to channel most of it into countless training sessions. It's one of the reasons why she's as strong as she is now – because she just didn't ever get tired. (It's also the reason why a lot of her sit-down lessons from age six to eleven had to be repeated, because she didn't have the capacity to sit down and concentrate on one subject for so long.)

"So," Percy says. "My mom and I – we've always been a team. Never knew my real dad, so he was never really important. My mom was my best friend growing up. She's absolutely incredible. But I think she was lonely, you know? It was just us. All she had to talk to was a toddler, and by the time I was about ten or something she was about to go crazy. Which is understandable, you know. I would also go crazy if my only friend was my ten-year-old son. And so she married this guy. Gabe."

Uh oh.

"He was cool, I guess," Percy says. He stares at his hands. "Or. He was for the first few months. He and my mom didn't get married until I was about thirteen. When I turned fourteen he started hitting her."

Annabeth's eyes widen.

"He was a total piece of crap." He rips at his napkin. He's anxious; Annabeth can see it in the taut veins in his hand. Pack it in with ADHD and Annabeth knows that he might just work himself into hysteria. "Beat Mom black and blue. I didn't catch on fast enough. I only realised it when he hit me and Mom threw herself at him, and he just backhanded her across the room like she was a toy. It was so scary, Lois, I–" Percy stops. The tap-tap-tapping of his foot is getting faster.

"You don't have to tell me," Annabeth says. "If it's that hard don't force yourself."

"No, it's okay." Percy swallows. "Um. We didn't tell anyone. Gabe would have ripped us in two. But one day he was careless and he hit me in the face. Like. He did it on purpose, obviously, but with me he made sure not to get any of the places people would see. My mom he went nuts on, because he had banned her from leaving the house. But one day he hit my too hard and I bruised. Then I fainted in the middle of Calculus. The headteacher called an ambulance and they discovered everything else. Gabe got arrested."

Annabeth watches him. "You said it was on the news," she says softly.

Percy sniffles a little. "Yeah. It was. Turns out, it wasn't the first time Gabe was charged with abuse. The pig's been locked up for life and my mom got better but – but it wasn't fun. I don't really like people bringing it up, 'cause. You know."

"Yeah." Annabeth hesitates, and then carefully slides her fingers into Percy's until they are laced together on top of the table. Percy stares at them. "I'm really sorry, Percy. You didn't deserve that."

"No one does."

"Especially not you. You're wonderful."

Percy lets out a strained laugh. "Is this a ruse to get me to do the rest of our English project by myself?"

"Damn, you got me." Annabeth's smile turns serious. "But, like. Percy, if you ever want to talk or anything, I'm here. I understand a lot more than you'd think."

If only Annabeth could tell him about what she's been through. But she can't.

Percy smiles at her. "Thanks, Lois."

Something tugs at Annabeth's heart.

It's almost funny, really. When finally something goes right it's still not perfect. Because it'll never be Annabeth. It'll always be Lois.

"So." Annabeth gives Percy a big smile. Hopefully he can't detect the wistfulness in her voice. "You ready to head off?"

"Nearly. Let me finish my drink."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. Percy had insisted they stop at a coffee shop before they arrived at McDonald's because it turns out he's a drink snob and he found McDonald's drinks absolutely disgusting.

Then he went and ordered a _chamomile tea_.

This boy.

"This will never not be funny," Annabeth tells him. "I hope you realise."

"Just because you don't appreciate the true beauty of tea doesn't mean you can make fun of people who do."

"It's _tea_."

"Is that a problem?"

"You're letting down America. We're meant to hate tea. We threw it in the harbour, remember?"

"It's a new era, Lois." Percy sips at it and looks at her with his big green eyes. Annabeth subtly has to hold onto the table to keep herself from falling over. "Not all of us are barbarians nowadays."

They're still holding hands. Neither of them says anything about it.

In fact, they hold hands until Percy walks Annabeth to her apartment block and he has to in order to say goodbye.

"It's been fun," he says, a little shyly. "We should do this again."

Annabeth has to pinch her leg to stop a silly grin from splitting her face. "Yeah."

"Well." Percy raises his hand in a funny little wave. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lois."

"You too, Percy. Thanks for being my boyfriend."

Percy laughs. "Any time."

* * *

("So?" Piper shouts as soon as soon as Annabeth walks through the door. "How was it? Which boy did you end up kissing?"

"Hopefully not both," Thalia mumbles.

"Neither, actually," Annabeth tells them.

Piper stares at her. "But we just saw Percy walk you to the door! That means it's a date! How did you go on a date and not get kissed?"

"Maybe you underestimated Annabeth's game," Thalia suggests.

Annabeth glares at her. "I have plenty of game, thank you very much. And it wasn't a date. Brandon was a jerk so we left and went to McDonald's."

Piper is horrified. Thalia cracks up laughing.

" _Classic_ ," she howls.

Piper scowls. "I am _outraged_ , Annabeth. I thought I had raised you better than this. McDonald's? Do you know how _tacky_ that is?"

All in all, it was a great night. Annabeth goes to sleep thinking of green eyes and how Percy's fingers felt against hers.)

* * *

 **A/N: note: it happened again guys. i made another mistake. thank you so much to WisePhoenix for telling me about the mistake. im gonna have to use you guys as my proof-readers xD**

 **Hey guys! I hope you liked that. I enjoyed writing it far too much, if you couldn't already tell xD**

 **So a few things. Some of you were a bit concerned about Thalia's character last chapter - you found her a tad rude - which, not gonna lie, was the point, but never fear. she is going to warm up (of course she is she's living with annabeth and piper how can she not) in a few chapters. at the moment she's still convinced that she's not going to enjoy it at all and that it's just another assignment with a bratty schoolgirl and a weirdo. She will get nicer, I promise.**

 **Also - school has hit me like a truck, so updates from here on out may slow down a little. I will never abandon this story but I may not update as frequently as I used to? I will minimum try to update at least once a week. Pinky promise.**

 **And guys we've nearly got forty reviews! Six chapters in and we've nearly reached forty. That's absolutely insane thank you all so much. I can't believe you like this little fanfic as much as i do it means so much aaahhh im so excited!**

 **That's all I have for now! As always, please tell me what you thought - favourite bits? Bits that i could improve on? Parts where it was clear I was trying to be hilarious but wasn't and should never say again? - and i'll see you all next time. Bye! xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

" _a human is to err_ "  
\- make me a robot, tessa violet

* * *

"You understand why you are here, don't you?"

Annabeth fidgets. Her cheeks burn with shame and she ducks her head, staring at the tips of her plimsolls. She doesn't think she can face looking up without crying.

"Yes, sir," she says quietly.

"Good." Mr D leans back in his chair and lets out a cheerful burp. It echoes around the room like an invisible, suspiciously wine-smelling ghost. "Please, Miss Wrembly, tell me where you went wrong." He takes a swig out of his mug. He keeps it on a shelf above his head and always angles it away from her so Annabeth can't see what's in it. She doesn't know why. The bottle of Jack Daniels on his desk kind of gives it away.

"Um. It's Watermann, sir."

He hiccups. "That's what I said." He tries his mug back on the shelf and almost misses it completely. "Now. Can you tell me why you are here?"

Annabeth is so embarrassed. This is worse then the time she went to Chiron seeking advice when it came to periods. Her cheeks burn red. "I spilt food down another student."

"Very good, Miss Wally." Another sip. "And what exactly – _hic_ – were your motives? What compelled you to do this?"

"The student was being rude."

Mr D lets out a bored-sounding, "Oh, goodie, I love teenage drama." He props his feet up on the desk, and Annabeth stares a little confusedly at them. His shoes don't match. Neither do his socks.

His left foot isn't even _wearing_ a sock.

"So." He gives her an intense look with his beady little eyes. "Since you have obviously mistaken me for your therapist and unfortunately it says in my headteacher handbook that I must take the time to listen to all my students' woes and sorrows, please, Miss Waterloo. Tell me the story."

The cogs in Annabeth's head start turning.

Unmarried.

Divorce?

 _Death_. The wine is there for a reason.

"Your time is ticking, Miss Wando," Mr D says boredly.

"It's nothing," Annabeth says distractedly.

Kids. Must be kids.

No. No kids. He's a headteacher. He wouldn't be an alcoholic with kids. He knows better.

 _Headteacher_.

Annabeth glances around. His office is quite sparsely decorated – but there's a photo hanging on the wall. Two little boys. It's a Polaroid.

Polaroids come out immediately. Annabeth squints at it. She can't see the date but she can guess. It's not completely yellow. She looks at the window. The blinds are half-closed – always are, always have been. The sun would only be able to hit the bottom half of the picture. It can't be cleaned, because it's high enough that cleaners know not to touch it. The bottom half has been yellowed from constant sun. The top hasn't. It's a shade lighter.

"We don't have all day, Laura. Hurry up."

It's New York. Warm in summer, cold in winter. Sun is only there for a bit of the year – hard sun, that is. Hard enough to lighten the picture, anyway. If it shines for roughly twelve hours a day, ninety days a year, it should change by at least 6.8%. It's significantly lighter than the top half – almost by twice the amount. Fifty divided by six point eight is around seven point three.

The picture was taken over seven years ago. But it's not a great picture. Seven years is a long time to take a better one.

 _Death. The wine is there for a reason._

Oh.

 _Oh_.

"Miss West?"

Annabeth looks up.

Mr D is watching her with a bored expression on his face. "We haven't got a lot of time, and you got sent here for a reason," he says. "What do you think that reason is, Miss Wiggle?"

"So you can find out why I poured spaghetti down Brandon Lawrence's front?"

"Excellent, Miss Walker. And if you walk out of here with me not knowing a thing it makes me look like a bad principal. Which I'm not."

Annabeth purposely doesn't look at the whiskey bottle on his desk. "Of course, sir."

"So, Miss Witherspoon. You have two options. You tell me why you decided to pour the contents of your lunch down our star basketballer's shirt. Or I get fired and you live the rest of your life knowing you were the reason for putting a man out of his misery."

Annabeth frowns. "Um– out of his _misery_?"

"I meant job," Mr D says insincerely. "Slip of the tongue."

"Ah."

He burps. "Well? Go ahead."

Annabeth sighs. "I– it was an accident."

Mr D gives her an unimpressed look over the rim of his mug. "Mrs Humphreys told me that before the, quote 'attack', you told Benjamin Ladders a range of unpleasant things. One of which included the fact that he has a small penis."

Annabeth swallows. "That– may have been said."

Mr D raises a bushy brow. "Accidentally."

"Accidentally."

They wait in silence for a long time.

"Very well," he says finally. "You may leave."

Annabeth nods. She pushes herself out of her seat and heads towards the door.

However, before she leaves completely, she pauses.

"I'm sorry about your kids, sir," she says quietly.

She's already out the door when she hears the mug shatter on the ground.

* * *

Percy is waiting by Annabeth's locker when she comes out of the principal's office.

"How was it?" he asks.

"Grueling," she says. "I'm never getting in trouble again."

"You can't have been surprised."

"Just a tad."

"You covered Brandon Lawrence in pasta in front of the whole school and you're _surprised_ you got in trouble?"

Annabeth ducks her head sheepishly. She still feels so awful. "I somehow forgot that covering another student in food is kind of against the rules."

Percy laughs. "It _was_ impressive, though. Not going to lie."

Annabeth gives him a little smile. "You think?"

"You poured bolognaise sauce over Brandon's head in front of over five hundred students. That's pretty badass."

"Thanks. I plan world domination."

"Taking them down one by one. With spag bol."

Annabeth laughs. "Just have to avoid the two-week detentions that follow."

"Oh yeah. Sorry about that, by the way."

"Why on earth are _you_ sorry?"

"I mean. You got in trouble defending my honour and stuff."

"Please. He had it coming." Annabeth shoulders her backpack and gives Percy a smile. "I would do it again in a heartbeat, Perce. Don't worry about it."

They head down the corridor together. Something about Percy's demeanor has suddenly changed. He pulls at his fingers, agitated. Annabeth stops.

"Is everything okay?" she asks softly.

"Yeah, I just–" Percy squeezes his hands together and looks up at Annabeth, anguished. "You don't have to do this, you know."

Annabeth's eyebrows knit together. "Do what?"

"Defend me, and stuff. I don't– I don't need _pity_."

Annabeth stares at him. "I– you think I'm doing this out of _pity_?" She doesn't even let him answer. She steamtrains on like a tank. "Don't be ridiculous."

"You don't even know me and yet the day after I tell you about Gabe suddenly you're going throwing food at people who talk crap about me? I'm sorry, forgive me for _assuming_."

Annabeth laughs humourlessly. "This isn't _pity_. I'm not doing this because I feel sorry for you."

"Oh really? 'Cause that's kind of what it looks like."

"For heaven's _sake_ , Percy! I don't give two hoots about your dad. That doesn't _matter_ to me. I threw my lunch at Brandon because he tried to ask me out again, not because I felt bad for you or I felt like you couldn't fight your own battles. I know you can very well fight your own battles, all right?"

Percy stares at her. When he next speaks, his voice sounds like broken glass. "I thought you had gotten rid of him," he says quietly.

It's not what he meant to say. But Annabeth takes it.

"Apparently not."

"He asked you out again?"

Annabeth nods. "Despite thinking I have a boyfriend."

"Oh."

"I don't feel sorry for you."

"I know. I just– sorry."

"It's okay."

Percy smiles wryly. "You've, um. Got pasta in your hair."

Annabeth sticks her hand in her ponytail, and pulls out a string of spaghetti. "Oh."

"Yeah."

They're quiet for a while.

"Is this where I say I pasta-n opportunity to be romantic?" Percy tries.

And just like that, they're okay.

"For heaven's sake."

"I thought it was good."

"It wasn't."

"I could have been romantic."

"Pulling spaghetti out my hair."

"I've been studying boyfriendship. You'd be surprised how much WikiHow can help."

Frankly, Annabeth wouldn't, because the vast majority of her high school knowledge has come from WikiHow, but instead she just laughs.

"I think I might."

"Rude."

"I took you on our first date, need I remind."

"Need you _not_. We blood swore we wouldn't talk about that."

"I also asked you to be my boyfriend, so."

"That means _nothing_."

"I would beg to differ."

Percy rolls his eyes.

And not for the first time, Annabeth gets a bubbly feeling in her chest that tells her that maybe this relationship isn't as fake as she wants it to be.

* * *

 _"_ _Hey, Lois," Hazel says, sitting next to her. "How was Friday?"_

 _"_ _Oh." Annabeth prods at her spag bol with a plastic fork. "It was all right."_

 _"_ _Didn't you go to the game?"_

 _"_ _Not really. Percy and I ditched."_

 _"_ _Shame," Leo says, materializing out of nowhere. Hazel jumps but after all her training Annabeth is almost immune to jump scares. Which makes her kind of a killjoy during horror movies. "Marino's win was insane. Five to three."_

 _Annabeth smirks into her food. She knew it._

 _From across the canteen, she hears a whoop. It would be too obvious to turn directly around so she watches through the reflection in the window – it was Grover Underwood, Percy's friend with the curly hair and crutches. He claps his hands over his mouth when he realises how loud it was, but he still thumps Jason enthusiastically on the back. Percy is beaming._

 _"_ _Oh yeah." Hazel fondly rolls her eyes. "Jason Grace got named man of the match."_

 _"_ _It was bananas, man," Leo tells them both. "He scored four goals. Four!"_

 _"_ _I swear it was only three," Hazel says._

 _"_ _No, it was four. Michael Kahale scored the other. But he almost got hospitalized – did you hear?"_

 _Annabeth's ears perk up. "No, what happened?"_

 _"_ _Some whacko Lancaster player got so angry they left he tried to attack Jason on the way off. Jason went to shake his hand and the guy almost bit it off."_

 _Hazel laughs. "It wasn't that dramatic."_

 _"_ _It was. He's been benched for the rest of the season. Serves him right, though. Can you believe it? He went for Jason's ankles. What a nutso."_

 _It was just far too easy._

 _Annabeth loves high school._

 _However, her good mood comes down with a bump when she sees Brandon approaching her from behind in the window reflection. She has to bite her tongue to stop herself from swearing. Like. He means well. But the last thing she wants is for him to talk to her – not for another week, at least. She's still ridiculously peeved. Screw forgive and forget. Forgiving and forgetting is for the weak._

 _"_ _Uh-oh," Leo says. "Get your gas masks. We've got O Rat Supreme headed our way."_

 _Hazel sighs. She's much too polite to say a bad word about anyone but Annabeth is pretty sure that if she asked Hazel wouldn't hesitate to put a curse on him with all of her herb-and-plant witchcraft. "I thought you had gotten rid of him."_

 _"_ _I did," Annabeth says. "But I also may have hit him."_

 _"_ _I don't mean to rain on your parade but I think that may have made it worse."_

 _"_ _Lois?"_

 _It's Brandon._

 _Annabeth pulls a hideous face and then turns around to face him. "Hey, Brandon."_

 _He's handsome, sure. The blue of his shirt brings out his eyes – but whenever Annabeth thinks of them all she can picture is the way they so easily turned from jovial to juvie delinquent, in a way a teenage boy shouldn't know._

 _Now, however, he looks a little embarrassed. He squirms under Annabeth's stare. "Um, can I– can I talk to you?"_

 _"_ _Sure."_

 _Brandon fidgets. "No, I mean– privately."_

 _"_ _Whatever you want to say to me you can say in front of my friends," Annabeth tells him in a hard voice._

 _Brandon sighs. "Lois, please–"_

 _"_ _The only reason I can possibly think of that requires you to be here is that you're going to apologise, and even that is a bit silly because it's not me who you need to apologise to, is it?"_

 _"_ _Lois–"_

 _"_ _Is. It."_

 _Brandon huffs. It's clear he doesn't take well to being patronized. Thalia would be so proud. "No."_

 _"_ _Very good, you're catching on," she says. "Now I'd suggest you'd go apologise to the person who actually deserves it before people start thinking that there's anything going on between us."_

 _Hazel chokes on her meatballs._

 _Brandon takes the seat next to Annabeth. Annabeth watches him warily as he leans close to her, lowering his voice. "Look, Lois," he says. "I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean to say those things about Peter."_

 _"_ _Percy."_

 _"_ _Percy. Sorry."_

 _"_ _Yeah."_

 _"_ _Let me make it up to you," he insists._

 _"_ _And how exactly did you plan on doing that?"_

 _"_ _Ice cream after school?"_

 _"_ _I have a boyfriend."_

 _"_ _Platonic."_

 _"_ _Something tells me that you don't mean that."_

 _"_ _I do. Swear."_

 _Annabeth studies him. His blue eyes, blonde hair, pretty face. He looks like your average boybander on steroids and Annabeth can't help remembering the shift in those eyes at the game, when he went from teenybopper to terrorist and started playing marionette on Percy's puppet strings. Teenage boys don't know how to do that. They're not meant to. She thinks of the blood in the bathroom, the flap of skin under his eye, the car that isn't his and the bridge where he met someone too late for it to be just be a friend._

 _She thinks of the way Percy shattered at the game when Brandon started speaking about his dad._

 _She stands up._

 _Both Hazel and Leo's eyes widen in syncronisation._

 _"_ _See," she says loudly. People on nearby tables look over. "Brandon Lawrence – honestly, I appreciate the offer. And you're a good-looking guy. Except you're also a piece of crap. You talk too much. You're a coward. You use far too much gel in your hair. And you know what else?" She leans in close and says in a hushed voice, "_ You have a small wiener _."_

 _And then she pours her spaghetti bolognaise down his shirt._

 _(It tastes like cardboard, anyway.)_

* * *

Annabeth heaves out a sigh of relief when she sees her front door. Her aching shoulders and feet scream out praises – she's been sore all day because the previous night Piper had accidentally knocked her off the mattress, leaving her to sleep on the hard wooden floor for seven hours – and honestly, she can't wait until she throws herself down on the couch and nap the afternoon away.

The thing is, Thalia doesn't seem to have the same idea. Or at least that's what the knife she throws at Annabeth's head the second she walks in tells her.

Annabeth manages to duck out of the way in the nick of time. The knife, buried hilt-deep in the door where Annabeth's throat was only milliseconds ago, wobbles. She stares at it in horror.

"You almost killed me," she says, shocked.

Thalia throws a second knife up in the air and catches it. "But I didn't."

"You could have."

"No, I couldn't." Without looking, Thalia boomerangs it to the left. It hits the dead centre of a target she's got propped up on top of the television, but Annabeth is too furious to be impressed. "Your reflexes are too fast."

Annabeth glares at her. "Has it ever occurred to you that if they perhaps weren't as fast as you thought they were you would have murdered me?"

"But they were, and that's all that matters."

"I could have had someone with me."

"No you couldn't. You would texted me and Piper if you did."

"What if I texted just Piper?"

"You know I'm the only one at home. Besides." Thalia gives Annabeth a smirk. "I need to keep you on your toes."

"By throwing _knives_ at me?"

"It worked."

"Yeah, but it also could have killed me."

"Don't be such a baby, Annabeth." Thalia picks up an array of knives she's got laid out on the table. They're all kitchen knives and if one hadn't almost slit her throat open Annabeth might have laughed. "You know how to throw knives, don't you?"

Annabeth scowls, dropping her backpack to the ground. "Am I three years old? Of course I know how to throw knives."

Thalia chucks her a cheese knife. Annabeth catches it without batting an eyelid. "Great. Throw it at the target."

"Why?"

"Training."

"In case you've forgotten, Thalia, we're not actually meant to be spies right now."

"Please." Thalia rolls her eyes. "You've got a serial killer on your tail."

"Yes, and you're meant to be protecting me from said serial killer."

"Rather be safe than sorry."

Annabeth frowns at the knife in her hand like a petulant toddler. "The fact that you're insinuating that I need to be trained to know how to protect myself is a tad insulting."

"Then throw the knife and show me you can."

Annabeth scowls, but it's childish now and they both know it. "Whatever."

She takes aim. It sinks a couple of millimetres away from the bullseye.

"Hm."

"You're just being difficult now."

"Fine." Thalia dumps the knives in Annabeth's arms. "Surprise me."

Annabeth raises her eyebrow. "Sorry?"

"Surprise me. You didn't manage the dead centre. If you can't hit the target perfectly then your only other option is to be unpredictable. Get them when they don't expect it."

"Unpredictability is dangerous."

"So is not hitting the centre."

Annabeth scowls at her. Thalia laughs.

"I'm not doing it," Annabeth says. "You're not my teacher. And spontaneity is overused, anyway."

"Spontaneity is the spice of life."

"But too much spice can ruin the dish."

Thalia arches a charcoal eyebrow. "Touché."

"I'm right."

"You are. Now throw the knives."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. She plucks one from the pile in her arms and throws it at the target.

Thalia is unimpressed. "Again."

Annabeth does. One. Two. Three. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Thalia study her with her electric eyes. She smirks to herself. It's always three. Thalia doesn't even realise it but at number three she subconsciously tensed up.

Annabeth throws a forth. And a fifth. That's when Thalia relaxes completely.

If not three, five. If not five, then never.

It's too easy.

Five is beyond easy and seven is too predictable. So for number six Annabeth picks up a fillet knife and balances it in her hands, silently weighing it and taking into account its mass. Then, without taking her eyes off the target, she throws it at Thalia.

Thalia misses it by the skin of her teeth. A second too late, she sees it coming and ducks, letting it slam into the wall behind her. It wobbles, a centimetre above her head.

Annabeth tosses her next knife in her the air. "You were saying?" she asks innocently.

Thalia straightens. "Nice one, Chase."

Annabeth smirks.

Her seventh knife hits gets dead centre.

* * *

 **Tessa**  
why is there a HOLE in our KITCHEN DOOR

 **Georgina  
** experiments

 **Tessa**  
you little creep I KNEW it was u

 **Tessa**  
why is there a hole in our door

 **Georgina  
** i was doing some training

 **Tessa  
** TRAINING

 **Tessa  
** What TRAINING requires a HOLE IN OUR DOOR

 **Lois  
** If i may butt in

 **Tessa  
** yoU MAY NoT

 **Tessa  
** unless you're the reason for the hole in our door in which case yes go ahead

 **Lois  
** We were doing some knife-throwing

 **Tessa  
** kniFE tHroWING

 **Tessa  
** IN MY HOuSe

 **Tessa  
** HOW DaRE YOU

 **Georgina**  
it was all good spirits

 **Tessa**  
gooD SPIRITS

 **Tessa  
** watch your back you nits ill get you

* * *

 **A/N Right laddos how are we all**

 **I'm so sorry that this took forever and isn't even that incredible. i tried, you know. Hopefully the next few chapters will be much better. I just wanted to get some stuff out for you.**

 **(I wrote this chapter five times i kid you not and this was the best version. the joys of writer's block amirite.)**

 **(Well. See, I know what's going to happen. But I can't make it all happen now, or this story will be about 10 chapters. I plan to make it quite long. so just in warning a lot of these chapters are going to consist of slow-burn percabeth and me thinking im #toteshilare with piper/Thalia/annabeth communication.)**

 **Also – thank you so so much for your reviews. They're one of the main reasons I keep writing. And 49 reviews? Absolutely insane thank you all so much xxx**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that! As always, please tell me what you thought, favourite parts, etc., and i hope you all have a wonderful week. Bye xxx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

" _two kids, no consequences / pull the trigger without thinking / there's only one way down this road_ "  
\- time-bomb, all time low

* * *

Annabeth dances into the living room.

"No," Thalia says immediately.

Annabeth deflates. "You haven't even heard what I was going to say!"

"I know it's going to be awful."

"Give her a break, Thalia," Piper says without looking up from her crossword.

Thalia heaves a sigh and drags her eyes away from her phone. Expectantly, she blinks at Annabeth with owlish blue eyes. "What, then?" she snaps.

Annabeth holds out her hands. "The Pat-Pad."

Piper blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"The Pat-Pad. We can call this house The Pat-Pad."

Thalia rolls her eyes. "You're out of your mind."

"I think it's cool," Piper says. She glances down at the book in her lap. "Thalia. Five letter word for cancel."

"I'm sorry, _what_?"

Piper gives her a dead look. "I'm taking crosswords up for a hobby now that we're not allowed to do any more proper spy-work. It's either I put myself in a life-or-death situation or you have to scroll through your inner thesaurus every now and then."

Thalia sighs. "Annul."

"Begins with I."

"Ixnay."

"Thank you."

"Guys?" Annabeth asks, a little impatiently. "Back on topic, please?"

"Of course," Thalia says. She gives Annabeth a pleasant smile. "I say utterly not."

"It's a good name, think about it. Like, P from Piper–"

"I get it, Annabeth, it's just a terrible idea."

"No, it's not. We've been living here for so long, I thought we ought to give it a name."

Thalia gives Annabeth a look. "We're not calling it the Pat-Pad."

"Yes we are."

"No."

"It's a good name!"

"No, it's an awful one. Like, the Pat-Pad? Really?"

Without looking up from her crossword, Piper says monotonously, "Don't be salty because your name is last." She turns to Annabeth. "Ten-letter word for 'join'."

"Amalgamate."

Thalia scoffs. "I'm not _salty_ , don't be daft."

"Yes you are."

"I couldn't call it the Tap-Pad," Annabeth says. "It doesn't sound cool like that."

"You could call it the Tap... 'Tel."

Piper snorts. "The Tap Tel."

"It's not any better than the Pat Pad."

Mildly, Annabeth chides her. "Hey."

"Besides," Piper says. "It's not a hotel, so it doesn't make any sense."

Thalia flounders. "Yeah, well– it's not a _pad_ either!"

"Well," Annabeth tells her. "If you want to think of it like _that_. It's either the Pat-Pad or the Tap-Tampon."

There is silence.

And then they both groan.

"Oh, _Annabeth_ –"

"Can we have _one_ conversation without you bringing up tampons, oh my _god_ –"

Annabeth squeals as Thalia lobs a pillow at her from across the room. Piper tackles her and they both fall off the sofa with a thumb, Annabeth letting out a giggly groan as her spine collides awkwardly with the floorboards. Thalia whoops, " _Fight, fight, fight_!" like the child she is and because Annabeth is obviously the more mature one she flips her off from where Piper has her wrists pinned down.

Later, they get a noise complaint from the couple who live above them. Thalia puts on a Mom Robe, a pair of heels and a wig and obediently listens to the apartment manager as he yaks away about decency and the apartment block policies, earnestly nodding and "mm"ing in all the right places and saying, "Of course, sir. I'll tell them to keep it down next time" whilst Piper and Annabeth try and suppress their giggles in the other room.

It's a standard evening. Annabeth kind of loves it.

* * *

Annabeth faces a little problem at school the next day.

So. She's a spy. Obviously. Almost everything about her life at this current moment is fake. The only non-fake things about the whole ordeal are Thalia and Piper, and even that's to a certain extent because the names programmed into her phone and under the apartment contract and listed into schools are Contessa DeVoire and Georgina Handler.

But, like. This is a real problem.

Annabeth's face is very fake. Not her real one. Her real one is quite normal. But Lois's face is all prosthetics. Her nose is fake. Her eyes are fake. Her forehead is wider, her lips bigger, her jaw more square and her cheekbones more defined.

And in Science, her nose almost falls _off_.

Which is, you know. Never great.

She's in a group with Leo and Percy. Leo has taken charge of the whole situation, which Annabeth is not sure whether to feel happy or terrified about, and because of this she and Percy are hanging back by the kettles.

"Are you sure we can't help?" Percy calls nervously.

Leo waves him off. "You lovebirds stay there! I've got everything under the control." Almost immediately after he stops talking, a massive whoomph of fire shoots out his Bunsen burner and singes the ceiling. Leo looks over his shoulder at Percy and Annabeth, his Science goggles misted up and a wicked grin on his face. "See?"

Surprisingly, Annabeth doesn't feel reassured in the slightest.

Percy turns to her. "So," he says. "Has, uh, Brandon said anything to you?"

Annabeth shakes her head. Something flashes in the corner of her in Leo's direction, which is later confirmed when Hephaestus bellows, " _VALDEZ_!" seconds afterwards. She chooses to ignore it. "Not after I, uh. Pasta-d him."

For some reason, Percy looks pleased. "Good." Then he goes scarlet. "I mean. For you. Like. He's left you alone now."

"Yeah." She takes a look at Percy's pink cheeks and decides to experiment. "Guess that means I don't need a boyfriend, anymore."

Percy's head shoots up, his eyes wide. "What?"

"I mean." Annabeth tries to suppress her smirk. "He's left me alone, hasn't he?"

She doesn't do a good job. Percy notices. "Stop laughing at me!"

"Sorry. You're cute when you're mad."

Percy goes the colour of a poppy. "Shut up."

"Aw."

"No, _shh_."

Annabeth presses a finger against Percy's cheek. "You're really red," she notes.

"That's your fault, Watermann. You're really pretty and you're standing, like. _Right here_."

Annabeth pauses. "You– you think I'm pretty?"

Suddenly she's not sure whose face is redder.

"Um." Percy fidgets. "Yeah."

"Oh." Annabeth smiles shyly. "Thank you."

She's going to fall asleep with his words clutched to her chest. She feels her stomach swirl with something unfamiliar, and for the first time lets herself indulge herself in it. Maybe liking Percy isn't so bad after all. After all. She's meant to be a normal teenager, isn't she?

That is, until she feels oil dripping off her chin.

The steam from the kettles has melted the clay holding her fake nose in place. Thankfully not completely, so Annabeth has time to step away and hold her nose so it doesn't slip off, praying that the remaining wax dries quickly, but she's still not out of the clear yet. Because unfortunately stopping mid-sentence to grab at your nose whilst something suspiciously skin-coloured drips down your arm is not considered normal.

Percy frowns. "Lois? Are– is everything okay?"

Annabeth's eyes widens. "Yes!" she says, a little too loudly _. Snap out of it, Annabeth_. "Sorry," she says again, risking taking her hand away from her nose and quickly fanning herself before clamping it down again. "Is it me or is it very hot in here?"

Percy looks very confused. "Lois, it's– it's Feburary. And the air con is on."

"Right." Annabeth nods firmly. "I see."

Percy stares at her.

"I, um." Annabeth gestures to the door. "I need the toilet. I'll be quick."

She sprints out the room.

But because life isn't on her side at the moment she bumps into Brandon darting out the door.

"Oh!" she squeaks. Her hand is still clamped to her nose, and she can feel the wax hardening beneath her fingertips. She should feel thankful except she has no way of knowing how it dried, so her nose could very well be upside down. She tightens her hand. "Brandon!"

Brandon's lip curls. "Lois."

He still hasn't forgotten the Spaghetti Incident.

She kind of doesn't blame him. She feels like she may have overstepped the mark just a touch.

"Hey," she says. "Um. Sorry, I'd love to talk, but I kind of need the toilet? If you could, um. Let me through. That would be lovely."

Brandon sidesteps and lets her go.

Annabeth scurries to the bathroom. Thank goodness, it's empty. She leans and peers at herself in the mirror. The wax has dried a little, but it's crooked and uneven. She cringes. She's going to need more facial clay if a little bit of steam does that to her nose.

Frowning, she begins to dab at her face.

* * *

Brandon strikes a week later.

Annabeth isn't dumb. She knows it's going to happen. He's incredibly predictable, really. Of course, he would deny otherwise, but Annabeth has managed to map out when he's going to get her down to the _minute_. It took a bit of careful chopping and choosing but after a few days of watching the way he would glare at her across the cafeteria when he thought she wasn't looking she managed to figure out a rough estimate.

And she's right, too. She would applaud herself, but her hands have been duct-taped together behind her back so it's a little difficult.

"This is extremely unnecessary," she says through the cupboard door.

"It's payback, Watermann. You don't humiliate me in front of the whole school and get away with it."

Annabeth rolls her eyes.

The door jiggles. Annabeth can hear Brandon struggle on the other side trying to figure out how to lock a doorknob he had broken only minutes before to get her in. If she wanted to, she could nudge the door open. She decides to humour him, though. Boys' egos are fragile. It can't be fun to have the school witness someone covering you in spaghetti bolognaise and then the revenge you had planned backfiring on you before you had even got it officially started.

"So," she says conversationally.

" _What_ , Lois?"

"How long were you planning on keeping me in here for?"

"Until the janitor discovers you."

Annabeth should be scared. She should. She almost feels guilty that she doesn't. The janitor only makes his rounds very late at night. But even though the cupboard is small and cramped and pitch black she can think of thirteen ways to escape and honestly none of them are even that heroic. She's a little disappointed, actually.

But she needs to maintain an image. She makes her voice slightly hysterical. "You're keeping me in here for _that long_?"

When Brandon next speaks, his voice is very close. She imagines he's pressing his lips against the crack in the door. She could kick it and he'd break his nose.

(She decides not to, though. He does admittedly have a very pretty face. It would be a shame to break it. He doesn't have any redeeming features so it's probably the only thing that'll be getting him any female attention.)

"Don't mess with me, Chase," he hisses. "This is your lesson."

The staccato of his footsteps gradually fades away and Annabeth is left alone.

Well.

This is certainly not how she expected her day to go. It had been pretty ordinary up until now, and even this wasn't a surprise – like Annabeth said, she knew it was going to happen. During lunch, a footballer called Toni Wallis with a head like a rugby ball and eyes like black marbles had asked if he could talk to her outside, and when they had walked out together he had scooped her up over her shoulder and carried her to the east wing corridor, where Brandon was waiting with a roll of duct tape and a malicious smile.

And now here she is. Locked in a janitor's cupboard with her hands taped behind her back.

About time. It's so incredibly dull with nothing to do.

Experimentally, she wriggles her wrists. The tape pulls at her skin, and frankly Annabeth is a little impressed. The plan may have been childish but at least they didn't use rope. Rope is incredibly amateur. Annabeth can escape rope bonds in eight seconds.

It takes her eleven minutes to get out the cupboard. A hook on the wall near her elbows provides as a good knife to cut the tape away with, and then it's simply a matter of twisting a metal handle off one of the buckets and using it to blindly fumble around in what she assumes is the key-hole area until she hears a click and the door falls open.

Far too easy.

Brandon needs to up his game. That was pathetic.

She decides to give him the satisfaction of thinking she's still there, however. She doesn't go back to her class – she heads to the Nurse's office and fakes a tummy ache, claiming she has to go home. The teacher lets her go.

It's all so easy. Anyone who said high school was hard was lying. It's simple.

However, it's only once she's halfway out the car park does she realise.

Brandon had called her _Chase_.

Chills run up her spine.

No. No. That can't have been. How on earth would _Brandon_ know?

Her mind spins the entire way home.

She decides against telling Piper or Thalia. Instead, she throws it to the back of her mind, a red-hot skeleton that bubbles and simmers in the caverns of her head, where it sits like a broken marionette.

 _You made it up_ , she tells herself as she approaches their front door. _It's all in your head. There's no way he could have known your name is Chase._

It doesn't do a thing. She has been brought up being taught that if you find yourself having to convince your mind of something it's more often than not untrue. The only thing that stops Annabeth from driving her keys into the wall and screaming with frustration is that there is no way Brandon could have known that her surname is Chase. Even if he did figure out that she wasn't Lois he'd never be able to track down Annabeth. There is no written record of Annabeth Chase anywhere on the planet. Her birth ticket was destroyed a day after it was signed. She has thirty-seven passports and none of them are genuine.

The only proof that Annabeth Chase exists is Annabeth Chase herself.

She slides her keys into the door. All she really wants to do now is collapse on her bed and sleep until next week, but she knows that she can't. Aside from the obvious, which is it is scientifically impossible, Thalia would never let it happen. She's a killjoy, Thalia. If Annabeth sleeps longer for ten hours she would blast a siren in her ear, let alone ten days. But maybe she and Piper can squash up on the mattress next to her and cuddle. Piper is good at cuddles. Thalia would whinge and moan but she'll settle eventually, and when she's sleepy she's soft and warm and she lets Annabeth lace their fingers together.

That's a great plan. They'll cuddle until Annabeth feels like getting up.

(Aka never.)

Unfortunately, great plans are more often than not hella unrealistic. Especially when she's sharing an apartment with two spies.

"Finally," Piper says when Annabeth walks through the door. "We've been waiting for you for decades. Come, sit down. We're playing cards."

Thalia ignores her. "You're home early," she notes suspiciously.

"It's a rather long story," Annabeth says. She drops her bag on the floor, ignoring Thalia's reptilian screech of indignation, and collapses in one of the empty chairs at the dinner table. Piper starts dealing her cards. She caught a cold so she's skipped out on school for the past two days, but Annabeth doesn't doubt for a second that she'll whip her butt if she thinks that that's a liable excuse to become lazy.

"We've got time," Thalia says mildly.

"I got locked in a cupboard," Annabeth says. "And when I got out I couldn't be bothered to go back to class so I left."

Thalia snorts as she picks up her cards. "Yeah, right."

"Who locked you in?" Piper asks.

"Brandon."

"I thought the kid had a crush on you," Thalia says. She puts down three cards facedown in the centre of the table and says, "Three queens."

Piper studies her. "Bluff."

Darkly, Thalia grumbles as she picks them back up.

"He did," Annabeth says. "But then I may or may not have humiliated him in front of the whole school."

Thalia shrugs. "I won't be impressed unless by 'humiliate' you mean stained his trousers with apple juice and announced to the whole school that he peed his pants."

"I'm not three years old," Annabeth retorts. She slides a card down on the table. "One five. I actually poured my lunch over his head and told everyone he has a small penis."

Piper blinks. "Well."

"Bluff," Thalia snaps.

"No, it's true."

"Not your story. That's definitely true, and you're going to give me details. Your card."

Annabeth preens. "S'a five. You can check."

Thalia scowls at her. "That isn't fair."

"All's fair in love and war, Thalia," Piper says primly, watching with a smirk as Thalia picks up Annabeth's card. "Besides, it's not my fault that you can't play."

"I can bloody _play_ , s'just you're both good liars."

"It's called practice, sweetpea," Piper says with a sickly sweet smile. "Two eights."

"Bluff," Annabeth says immediately. "I have three."

Piper pauses. She peers at Annabeth over the top of her cards. "No you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"I just put down two eights. That doesn't make any sense."

"Stop lying. You put down a three and a six," Thalia retorts. "Although I haven't the foggiest idea why. It's a free deck, and you _have_ an eight. Why on earth would you need to bluff on a free table?"

Piper sticks out her tongue as she gathers up her cards. "Tactics, Thalia."

"Yes, well, they aren't working very well, are they?" Thalia sighs. "Is anyone ever going to be truthful in this game?"

"I will," Annabeth says. "One ace."

Thalia rolls her eyes. "I have no energy left. Two twos."

"I call bluff," Piper says immediately.

"For heaven's _sake_ , Piper."

"It's not interesting otherwise."

"Well. You're wrong. Pick 'em up."

Piper doesn't even look fazed.

"Goody. More cards." She flicks through them. "Annabeth, you bluffed."

Thalia swears. "Oh my _god_."

"Too late to call me out now," Annabeth says.

"Shame. I was looking forward to having an ace. All I got was another six."

Annabeth laughs.

Out of nowhere, Thalia frowns. "Your nose is crooked."

"Hm?" Annabeth feels for her nose, and her fingers bump into the uneven ridges of the wax. "Oh yeah. In Science I accidentally melted it off. It's fine, no one noticed. I just went to the bathroom and ran it under cold water until it hardened again."

Piper puts down her cards, concerned. "That's not good at all."

"I know. I only just managed to explain my way out of it."

Thalia furrows her eyebrows. "I'll try and make some thicker facial clay. I'll work it out, don't you worry."

* * *

She doesn't get thicker facial clay. Instead, she gets something else.

"Here," Thalia says the next morning, pressing a little bag in her hand as she passes.

Annabeth stares at it. "What is this?"

"Blood."

Annabeth almost spits out her water. "Excuse me?"

"It's not real, you idiot, don't look so scared. In that bag are six little sachets of fake blood. It's for if your nose starts falling off, which is not something we necessarily want or need happening. What you do is if that does happen just crush one of these between your fingers and hold it up to your nose so it looks like it's bleeding. Then you can rush off to the bathroom to fix it."

Annabeth is touched. "Thank you," she says genuinely. "That's– really nice of you."

"Don't sound so surprised."

"You're not really known for being nice, Thalia."

"Georgina," Thalia corrects, but she's smiling.

"Thalia Thalia Thalia."

"Don't make me take that back."

"Sorry." Annabeth gives her a shy smile. "But really, thank you. This is going to be really useful. I owe you."

"You've told me that sixteen times and it's never happened so I doubt it but you're welcome. Be careful not to sit on it, though. It might look like you had a bit of an accident."

"I'm not going to sit of them, Thalia."

"You'd be surprised. They end up everywhere. One of them somehow landed up under one of the sofa pillows and Piper sat on it. I spent an hour trying to get it out."

"We appreciate your efforts."

"No you don't. Not enough, anyway."

Annabeth rolls her eyes fondly. "Goodbye, Thalia."

"Have fun at school."

"I will."

* * *

 **A/N Hey amigos! This was written on three cups of tea and Burn from Hamilton on repeat for about two hours so it's a little wonky i apologise (also not so much percabeth ahh sorry next chapter though pinky promise)**

 **I'm so sorry for this late update. School hit me like a wrecking ball (and when I say that I mean I have had three pieces of homework due every day this week and because I'm obviously very organised I do them all the day before I have to hand them in, meaning I was cramming projects meant to be done over a two-week period into a few hours WHICH protip is not a good idea do not do that)**

 **And sorry this chapter isn't thrilling (it's a bit of a filler oops sorry). However, I have got something akin to a plan so from now on every chapter, while it may not be incredible, will be crucial to what's going on. So my writer's block has been sort-of cleared (hopefully, we'll see). If all goes to plan then I should probably have around 21 chapters. But knowing me I'll think of something and it'll probably end up something like 30.**

 **Also – my friend** McShizzle350 **(yo grasshopper) is writing some great stories! Go check him out, he's awesome.**

 **That's all I have for today, folks! Please tell me what you thought (favourite parts?) and I'll see you all soon!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

" _her closet's such a mess / filled up with all the skeletons she's kept_ "  
\- dirty laundry, all time low

* * *

So. Annabeth has a small problem.

Well. It's a bit of a big problem, actually. A six foot two problem with black hair and legs too long for anyone to know what to do with pressed up tightly against her with his head thrown back laughing at a dumb joke in a way that has his eyes scrunched together into cheerful green slits and his cheeks creased with dimples – bloody _dimples_ – and his laugh echoing around the room in a way that should technically be considered rather obnoxious but because it's him and he's just so _wonderful_ no one tells him to shut up.

Yeah. _That's_ her problem.

Let's break it down for you.

So.

Percy Jackson is a very lovely human being. He's got pretty eyes. His hair is soft. His laugh is utterly beautiful.

He's just extremely cool, okay.

And Annabeth is kind of a sucker for very lovely human beings. Especially six foot two ones with legs too long for anyone to know what to do with.

"Hey, Lois," he says. "Wanna hear a joke?"

"No."

"Why did Superman cross the road?"

Annabeth sighs. "Why?"

"To get to the _supermarket_!" Percy bursts out laughing. He even _slaps his thigh_. Annabeth tries so desperately hard to be irritated because now that she's thought about she's pretty sure Piper's told her that joke at one point and frankly it was as disappointing then as it is now but Percy's rocking back and forth in his chair as if it was the most hilarious thing he's ever heard and it's just so, so hard to be mad at _that_.

"That wasn't funny," she says calmly after Percy stops howling.

"I would actually beg to differ, you know, but that's okay 'cause I have loads more." Percy flashes her a grin. "Okay, why did Adele cross the road?"

For heaven's sake. "I don't know."

"To get to the other s– no, wait– crap, I meant– _hello_ from the other side!"

And Annabeth is just so, _so_ endeared.

"Why aren't you smiling? That was great, admit it."

But, like. She isn't very good at showing it.

She smoothes her face over with a mask of disapproval. "No it wasn't."

"Yes it was! Because, like– she wrote Hello, and it says hello from the other side, and she's saying hello from the other side, 'cause, like–"

"I got it, Percy," she interrupts. "It just wasn't funny."

"Bloody hell." Percy huffs. "You're impossible. Don't worry; this one will make you laugh. Do you like cheese jokes?"

"Utterly not."

"Excellent, I knew you'd say that. What do you call a cheese that's not yours?"

"Percy, I said I don't like cheese jo–"

" _Nacho_ cheese!"

Involuntarily, Annabeth snorts.

"Ha!"

"That was _awful_."

"You laughed."

"Not at the joke, at how terrible it was."

Percy looks far too smug and Annabeth kind of wants to smack the look off his face. Or kiss it off. That could also work. "I knew cheese jokes were your kryptonite."

"You did not just say that."

"I've got more. What do you call a cheese that hides horses?"

" _Hides horses_?"

"Mascarpone cheese!"

She can't help it; she laughs that time. Percy looks triumphant, a silly grin threatening to split his face in half, like he's just broken a world record. "I _knew_ it!"

"I'll give that one to you."

"I knew cheese jokes would be your downfall. No one can resist a good cheese joke."

"Don't you mean a _Gouda_ cheese joke?"

Annabeth regrets it the second it comes out of her mouth.

Percy's mouth drops open. "Oh my _God_."

"Um. Sorry?"

" _Sorry_? What on earth are you _sorry_ for?" Percy lets out an obnoxious whoop that has the librarian angrily shushing him for. "I bloody _knew_ it. Cheese jokes are in your _blood_."

"Don't be _absurd_ , Percy. They're despicable. I hate them."

He ignores her and blissfully throws his head back to grin at the lights. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, Watermann." Percy is too busy beaming up at the ceiling to see Annabeth's cheeks stain read. "I just knew it." He looks at her, his eyes sparkling. "You can't escape the cheese."

He's such a nerd.

"Oh my _God_ , Perce."

"And it was good, too. 10/10 pun-work."

"Does that mean I get a _pun_ dred percent on it?"

 _No_. She needs to _stop_.

Percy gapes. "Oh my God."

"Oops."

"That– what has _happened_ to you?" He grabs both her hands in his and if he doesn't stop right now then she feels like she might explode. All of her atoms in her body turn to lightning. "I _love_ it. Can this side of you stay?"

 _Do_ not _blush, Chase_. "No. As soon as we're out of this library I'm locking this side of me back up where it belongs."

"But– but your _puns_! They're almost as good as mine!"

Annabeth snorts. "All right, Mr Ego."

"I didn't mean it like that. Well. I did, kind of. But not in an arrogant way."

"In an accepting way."

"Yeah, an accepting way. Like I'm embracing how hilarious I am."

"Not arrogant at all."

Percy laughs. Annabeth has to turn her attention to the table so she doesn't focus on the way his eyes scrunch up and the way his laugh echoes boisterously around the room.

* * *

It happens during lunch.

Everything is going quite normally up until then. Annabeth and Leo are arguing about the best way to construct a paper aeroplane, and Hazel and Frank are pretending their hands aren't touching underneath the table. Percy is sitting with Grover and Jason across the canteen, but every now he turns around to give Annabeth goofy looks.

"You've got to double fold the wings," Leo insists. "Then it's more streamline."

Annabeth crossly shoves a slice of pizza in her mouth. "But if you don't it's got a bigger surface area. Also you have the rip the bottom to create a loop so it stays upright in the air."

Leo stares at her. "That's so dumb! It's too small. It'll nosedive."

"It won't. The air that gets through it will propel it forwards."

"It's a loop, not a turbine, Lois."

"Making it streamline will only guarantee it flies straight. You need to keep it _up_."

Petulantly, Leo picks up his taco. "I'd much rather an aeroplane that moves in a straight line and doesn't fly for very long then an aeroplane that stays in the air for longer but zigzags all over the place."

"See, that's where the wider aeroplane wings come in. It's like a parachute. The bigger the parachute, the more effective."

Leo shakes his head adamantly. "But the wind pressure will bend the corners–"

And that's when It happens.

An upperclassman Annabeth vaguely recognizes from her Spanish class tries to edge past them. However, because the tables are so tightly packed together it's all very precarious and odd, and she doesn't seem to notice that two students sitting back to back are sharing a set of earphones. So when they subconsciously separate to let her through, she walks straight into the earphones and trips forward.

And smashes straight in Annabeth.

Annabeth is pushed forward and her nose conks against the table. It doesn't hurt as much as it should, because layers of plastic and wax and clay are protecting her real nose, but she hits it so hard it's almost pushed right off her face.

She gasps and presses a hand to her nose. She can feel it wobbling – if she takes her hand away, her nose is going to come with it. Frank looks horrified and Hazel is flooding her with questions like, "Are you okay? What happened? Is your nose all right?" and in a moment of sheer panic she wriggles one of Thalia's blood sachets from where she's loosely sewn it into her sleeve and crushes it between her fingers.

The effect is instantaneous. Blood gushes from her hand, which she quickly brings up to her nose, and Leo lets out a screech that in any other situation Annabeth might have teased him for. Hazel and Frank stumble backwards and the girl who tripped lets out a loud swear word at all the blood.

"Someone get the nurse!" Frank shrieks, slightly hysterically.

Everything is pandemonium around her. Distantly, Annabeth feels Hazel pull her up by her arm and drag her towards the door. The girl who fell into her starts crying and everyone is shouting and squawking at the amount of the blood, yelling that her nose is broken or that it has fallen off (which, you know. Is slightly ironic) and so many people are pushing and jostling around that it takes everything in Annabeth to keep her hand on her nose. If it accidentally gets pushed off she can't imagine how they'll react when they see half her nose in her hand.

"I'll take you to A&E," Hazel shouts over the screaming. "Come on!"

"Get out the way!" someone yells. "Let her through!"

Hazel and Annabeth duck out of the canteen. Somewhere in the confusion the teachers had realised that this much screeching was beyond the usual levels of your average teenage drama and had materialised from the staff room, holding cups of coffee and looking vaguely irritated. However, they must see all the blood on the table because the second they walk in the room they sober up, running to see what had happened.

Hazel helps Annabeth down the corridor. Annabeth has managed to get some convincing-sounding sobs out, which only makes Hazel squeak with urgency and move faster. Frankly, Annabeth isn't really sure what she's going to do when they get to A&E – and there's no way she can avoid it, because there is still blood trickling out of her fist and her whole T-shirt has been stained with red – because the Nurse is going to be prodding at a nose that is about to fall off.

So technically the whole plan has backfired. Which.

Hooray, you know.

Annabeth has to think fast.

She collapses to her knees.

Hazel gasps. "Lois! Are you okay?"

Annabeth groans in pain. She has had enough practice to get it perfect. "I– oh, my nose, _Hazel_ – " She lurches forward, and grabs at Hazel's velvet sleeve. Hazel throws herself to her knees and cups Annabeth's face in her hands.

"Oh, Lois," she says. "That's– that's a _lot_ of blood, Lois, we need to get you to the Nurse – "

"No," Annabeth gasps out. "No– Nurse– p–please, _Hazel_ – "

" _Shh_ , Lois, it's okay, it's okay." Hazel coos at her, strokes her hair. "Okay, we won't go to the Nurse. Shh, it's okay. What do you want to do? Do you need– do you want to go the bathroom?"

 _Score_.

Annabeth nods. "Y–yes!"

Hazel helps her to her feet. Together, they stagger towards the girls' toilets. Annabeth feels a little bad, because she's leaning against Hazel like she's an invalid and in fact is perfectly capable of walking by herself (which she would still be even if her nose _was_ broken – she's broken it before in the middle of a chase, and had to run two miles and then hotwire a motorcycle and roar down a highway for the last five before getting any sort of medical attention), but Hazel never complains once.

Just as they're about to walk inside, Annabeth turns to her. "Um– is it okay if I– I go inside by myself?"

Hazel doesn't even bat an eyelid. "Oh, no, of course!"

Bless her soul. Annabeth hopes she one day becomes rich enough to swim in fifty dollar bills in a bathtub made of gold. She deserves it.

Gratefully, Annabeth bobs her head, and ducks inside. Thank heavens, it's empty. She pulls her hand away from her nose and it comes along with it, stuck to her hand like a door handle. She frowns at it.

That certainly would have not been good at the Nurse's office.

The blood is becoming a bit of a problem, however. Having her hand clamped over her nose for the past ten minutes has melted some of the wax, so Annabeth doesn't doubt for a second she'll be able to paste it back down and then freeze it in place with cold water, but the blood is drying and becoming rather disgustingly sticky. It doesn't smell too great, either. Like a lamb chop that's been hanging out in the sun for the past three days.

"Is everything okay?" Hazel asks gently through the door.

"Y–yeah," Annabeth says. "Um, just a minute."

"Take your time, Lois."

Annabeth smiles.

She tries to clean herself up a bit. She fixes her nose and then dabs at her bloody face and hands with some wet toilet paper. It gets most of it off but her T-shirt has been ruined beyond compare.

It's a bit of a shame. Annabeth actually quite liked that T-shirt.

When she comes out, Hazel visibly deflates. "Oh, thank goodness," she says. "It wasn't broken, then?"

Annabeth manages to let out a weak laugh. "Just, um. Dislocated. I've done it before; I just had to, uh, click it back into place. It's a bit gruesome, though, so I didn't really want you to see it."

Hazel smiles, but it falters when she looks at Annabeth's shirt. "That– that _is_ a lot of blood, though."

"I'm kind of known for excessive bleeding."

That gets a laugh. "Are you sure you're okay, Lois?"

"I'm fine, but thanks. I was just a bit shocked."

"Well." Hazel beams up at her. "I'm glad you're all right."

(It gets a tad complicated after that, however, when Annabeth walks into her Maths class and her teacher almost has a heart attack upon seeing her T-shirt. She gets sent home with a note to her parent/guardian in her hand and a recommended phone number of the local hospital programmed into her phone.)

* * *

Thalia almost spits out her coffee when Annabeth walks in. "Holy _cow_!" she yelps.

Annabeth scowls at her. "Nice to see you, too."

Thalia ignores her. "What _happened_ to you?" she asks, horrified. "You look like you walked out of the Walking Dead. With extra emphasis on the _dead_."

Annabeth folds her arms. "Exactly how much blood was in those sachets you gave me?"

"All _that_ is from the blood bags?"

"Yeah. I scared the wits out of my teacher."

"Wow." Thalia looks dumbfounded. "I didn't know it had _that_ much."

"Wasn't there a measurement on the side?"

"I mean– probably? At the Society they had a whole range of sizes. I just grabbed the first ones I saw. You have to pay for them," she explains, at Annabeth's confused look. "And I'm kind of broke."

Annabeth isn't even surprised.

"Well, you ruined my shirt," she says. "There was a lot more blood in that sachet than needed."

"I can see that. You look like someone just shot you in the nose."

"On the bright side, I got to leave school early."

Thalia snorts and goes back to doing whatever she was doing. "Perks of looking a lot more injured than you actually are."

Annabeth frowns. Something about that sentence doesn't sit well, but she decides not to dwell on it. Probably just overreactive spy senses again. She shrugs it off and leans over to see what Thalia's doing. "Are you– are you doing a crossword?"

Thalia looks defensive. "Before you _judge_ , okay–"

Annabeth laughs. "I can't believe you're doing a crossword."

"Piper and I have taken it up as a hobby."

"Piper does it _too_?"

Thalia sticks her nose in the air. "It's very stimulating."

Annabeth peers at the crossword. The cogs in her brain start spinning. "Twenty-eight down is 'pioneer'."

Thalia grumbles as she writes it in. "Go away, Miss Brainiac."

Annabeth laughs as she prances out the room. "Do we have any food?"

"We have half a loaf of bread and some tea bags."

Annabeth frowns. "What about coffee?"

"I took the last packet."

"Screw you." She opens the fridge. "We need to get some food."

"You don't say. We've been living off canned chicken and baked beans for the past forever."

Annabeth peers over the top of the fridge at the back of the sofa. "Why don't you just go out and do some grocery shopping?"

"Because I can't, duh? I need a disguise."

"Then wear a disguise. It's not rocket science."

"I _can't_. All the wigs we have are from Halloween stores, and they're absolutely _awful_."

"They fooled the manager."

"Who is eighty years old with 7/20 vision."

"Touché." Annabeth studies the inside of the fridge. There's really nothing there, except a slice of stale bread, a mouldy apple and an empty tub of butter. There's also a puddle of milk inside a carton but when Annabeth uncaps it and has an experimental sniff she almost vomits at the white and green fuzz gathering along the top of it.

She doesn't really want to read the use-by date, but just from looking at the fungus she can tell that it passed at least a month ago.

"What time is it?" she calls.

There's a beat. "Around one. We've got about two hours to kill before Piper arrives home."

"Can we watch a movie?"

"Sure. But I'm picking, because you'll choose something sappy like The Notebook."

"What's wrong with The Notebook?"

"Absolutely everything. Now sit down."

Annabeth grumbles but she closes the fridge nonetheless and vaults herself over the back of the couch, right on top of Thalia. Thalia squawks in disgruntlement, and for a few seconds it's all bony limbs and toes in ribcages but after a while of shuffling around they come to compromise where Annabeth is cuddled up into Thalia's shoulder with her legs curled up and her cold feet tucked under Thalia's thighs with Thalia complaining beneath her.

"I'm glad we can snuggle like this," Annabeth fondly tells Thalia's collarbone.

Thalia moodily flicks on the TV. "Yeah, whatever."

The doorbell rings in the middle of Titanic.

Annabeth would say it killed the mood, but that already happened the second the opening credits rolled onscreen. Thalia has been providing unnecessary running commentary throughout the entirety of the film ("Naked ladies. Tasteful." "Shut _up_ , Thalia, I'm trying to watch." "I'm just saying. Those are boobs if I've ever seen them.") so when Jack and Rose are desperately clinging to each other in the water Annabeth doesn't even tear up.

Thalia sighs and stares at the door. "Who's that?"

"Piper, probably."

"She has keys."

"Since when is Piper ever bothered to use her keys?"

"Good point." Thalia raises her voice. " _KEYS, TESS_!"

The decided silence that follows tells Annabeth that it is not, in fact, Piper on the other side of the door.

Thalia swallows. "Oh."

"For heaven's sake." Annabeth rolls off the sofa, landing awkwardly on her hipbone with a solid thump. "You open the door, I need to change out of my T-shirt."

"You haven't got any time. Just smack a plaster on top of your nose."

Annabeth rolls her eyes, but pads into the kitchen. She hears the sofa creak as Thalia pushes herself off it, and with an affectionate eye roll Annabeth rips into the box of emergency band-aids they keep under the sink. These ones are rather special, because using special prosthetics they've been altered to make them look like they're been worn for hours, which Annabeth is quite aiming for. She places a big one over the bridge of her fake nose, and then starts picking at the edges to make it look like she's been wearing it ever since she arrived home.

The door clicks open. "Oh, um." Thalia sounds a little confused. "Hello?"

"Hey."

Annabeth freezes. She knows that voice.

"Um, I'm Percy Jackson? From Lois's school? Is– is she here?"

What the actual _heck_ is Percy doing here?

Look. It's not as if Annabeth doesn't appreciate it. The fact that he popped around does make her heart swell a bit but unless she's been pampered and practiced Annabeth isn't really sure she can snap so easily back into Lois. With Leo it had been easy, because she was coming straight from school with the mindset that Leo and Lois were doing homework. Right now, Annabeth is _Annabeth_.

Especially since it's _Percy_ , the boy that has had Annabeth's brain spiraling into spaghetti strands. She's been dying to show Percy Annabeth for weeks now, to let go of Lois completely.

She hopes she'll be able to keep it up. Otherwise everything will be ruined.

"Oh!" Thalia's voice is carefully, dangerously neutral. She's either suppressing a smirk or the urge to kill. "Yes, of course. I'm Georgina, Lois's cousin."

"Ah," Percy says politely. "Lois talks about you guys a lot. There's also Contessa and Agatha, right?"

Annabeth can feel Thalia's eye twitch. "Yeah, of course. Tess and– Tess and Ag, you know. Good old Agatha."

"Yeah."

There's an awkward silence.

"So," Thalia says. "What made you stop by?"

"Oh, uh. Lois got hurt in lunch and I wanted to see if she was all right."

"Right." Thalia's voice is strained. "Well, that's lovely of you, except Lois is resting right now, actually–"

Oh _hell_ no.

Annabeth quickly checks her reflection in the back of a spoon, tousling her hair and rumpling her bloody shirt, and then she stumbles blearily out of the kitchen like she's just woken up.

"George?" she asks tiredly.

Thalia and Percy turn around. Percy is fidgeting with the strap of his backpack and Thalia is fixing Annabeth with a death stare, silently telling her to go back to her bedroom and play dead.

"Oh!" Annabeth makes herself sound surprised. "Hey, um, Percy."

"Hey," Percy says uncomfortably. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up–"

"Oh, no, don't worry," Annabeth says. She fists at one of her eyes. "I was just getting some water."

"I'll leave you to it," Thalia says stiffly. She walks past Annabeth to her bedroom, and when she's certain Percy can't see holds up the middle finger and says, _get_ rid _of him!_

Not likely.

Now that Thalia's gone, it feels a lot easier to talk. Annabeth shuffles forwards until her hip is pressed against the back of the couch, leaning against it like a crutch. She stifles a yawn and shoves a hand up the side of her hair. "Do you want anything to drink?" she asks.

"Oh no, I'm fine," Percy says. He pulls at his bag strap. "I was actually, uh, coming to see if you were all right. That was quite a bump you took during lunch. Pretty spectacular, actually."

"Thanks. I was hoping someone would notice."

Percy laughs. The tension cracks.

"Doing it for the lols since 2011."

"TM."

That makes Percy laugh harder. Annabeth smiles, watching him. He's lovely to watch.

Which. That was creepy, she won't say that again.

"How did you know where I lived?" she asks, once his laughter dies down.

He looks a little sheepish. "I asked Leo."

"Oh God, he's not going to let that go."

"It was like he wasn't sure whether to make an innuendo or give me The Talk."

Involuntarily, Annabeth shudders. "I'm not sure what's more terrifying." She sobers. "But thanks. For stopping around. That was– that was really sweet."

"Of course," Percy says, with a small smile. "Anytime."

They dopily grin at each other for a few seconds.

Annabeth snaps out of her stupor. "Um. Sorry. Do you want – do you want to stay? We can head to my room?"

She can hear the Thalia in her head screech at her.

Percy looks aggressively awkward again. "Uh, are you sure?"

"'Course. Wouldn't have offered otherwise."

"Then, uh, sure, I guess."

Annabeth has to pinch her thigh to stop a stupid grin from splitting across her face. "Great! You can dump your bag by the couch, if you want."

Annabeth leads him to her and Piper's shared bedroom. She makes sure to talk to him loudly when they pass Thalia's room, so Thalia knows not to barge in calling her Annabeth, and she also has to subtly kick dirty laundry lying on the floor to the side where Percy can't see it. It all really doesn't even matter because when they reach Annabeth's door one of Piper's bras is hanging from it with a Post-It note saying IF YOU CREEPS LEAVE THIS IN THE KITCHEN ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KICK YOUR BUTTS, which is hanging too brazenly in the open for Annabeth to even pretend that it's not there.

Both of them stare at it.

"That's– not mine," Annabeth says lamely.

Which _is_ true, she supposes. But Percy is watching it with flushed cheeks like he's afraid it's going to grow teeth and bite him and so Annabeth lets out a weak laugh and unceremoniously wrestles it off the doorknob, chucking it over her shoulder.

"Cousins, right," she says pathetically.

Percy seems more settled with it out of sight, which she doesn't even blame him for. "My cousin Nico leaves his underwear all over the place. I understand."

"Ever on your doorknobs?"

"Occasionally. When he wants to spice it up a little."

Annabeth laughs and pushes her door open. Percy follows her inside, looking a little bemused and also slightly curious.

It's not until Annabeth has a visitor does she realise how unkempt their room actually is. Piper is a firm believer in "you can never have too much stuff", so there are at least four different types of fairy lights strung up on the walls and there are posters absolutely everywhere. Also, despite Chiron sending them monthly funds for groceries and basic essentias like rent and cake the three of them are on a bit of a budget, so they don't have a wardrobe, just two chairs with their clothes in unorganized piles on top. There are books stacked absolutely everywhere, knickers dangling from the ceiling ("No, don't give me that look, Annabeth, hanging clothes from the light fittings is actually quite a neat way of drying them") and a half-finished can of beans propped by the mattress, which is lying bed-frameless in the middle of the room.

Not to mention the nail polish. Piper has to have at least three hundred jars, and they are scattered _everywhere_.

"Well," Percy says after a while.

"It's a little crazy, sorry," Annabeth admits. "Tess isn't very tidy."

"No, it's fine." Percy cautiously steps over a plate. "It's very you."

"That's one way of saying it."

Percy looks over his shoulder and cracks a little smile at her.

Annabeth lets him look around. There's nothing discriminating in here (they keep all their spy resources in a secret cupboard in the bathroom) so she has nothing to worry about, instead just watching fondly as he carefully looks at all the posters on the walls and the trinkets stacked up along the windowsill.

He stops when he reaches the mirror. It's an antique thing Piper arrived home with one day (much to both Thalia and Annabeth's horror and astonishment) that they've propped up against the wall, and they've got lots of necklaces and stickers hanging around it.

"I like this necklace," he says, pointing.

Annabeth peers. It's one she made when she was about seven. It's got around ten little beads on it, each one carefully designed and painted for the ten years she's been working in the Action unit of the Society. She's the only one who got one, because she was the youngest spy in the unit and to keep her pacified they made her colourful things, like books and toys and necklaces.

She was a little spoilt back at the Society. So what.

"I made it an art camp years ago," she says. "I don't know why I've still got it."

"It's nice," Percy says. "Don't throw it away."

Annabeth was never really planning to, but that only makes her want to keep it more.

She throws herself back on the mattress. "You want to play a board game?"

Tentatively, Percy perches on the edge. "What do you have?"

"Monopoly?"

Percy's eyes narrow. "Oh, you are _on_. I'm great at Monopoly."

Annabeth laughs. "We'll see about that, Jackson. Keep your ego in check."

He's not beating her. She's a spy. Like.

 _Duh_.

* * *

Apparently not.

"How are you _doing_ this?" Annabeth complains.

Percy counts out his money with a smug look on his face. "I told you."

"It's not even been half an hour and you've already got six hotels!"

"Those six hotels are going to be your downfall, Watermann. I'm going to smack you so hard with bankruptcy that you won't be able to see straight for the next few weeks."

Normally, this is the part where Annabeth would roll her eyes and say, "Yeah, right." However, Percy is really, really good at Monopoly.

Like, really good.

No amount of strategic planning on Annabeth's part could have prepared her for the whirlwind that is Percy Jackson.

"It's your go," Percy says, sliding her the dice.

Annabeth rolls.

Six.

She lands on Oxford Street.

"Which I own," Percy says primly. "And also have the same hotel you scoffed at not twenty seconds ago on, so, you know. Pay up."

Grumpily, Annabeth counts out her money and shoves it at Percy's fake. Beaming, he collects it and puts it on his steadily growing pile. Percy may be an excellent player but his set-up is awful – he doesn't even organise his money, he just throws it together in heap. It takes him ages to pay for things, especially at the rate he's collecting bills, because he has to dig through countless fives and ones to find the twenties. When Annabeth tried to complain, he just gave her this knowing look and says, "I mean, it's your choice. Either you wait or I pay you entirely in ones."

Which Annabeth hates more than anything, so she sits and sulks.

"Your go," she tells him.

Percy rolls and lands on the GO square. He leans over to collect his money and for some reason as he does so Annabeth is struck by a sudden realization that he is actually extremely attractive.

Not in that conventional Brandon Lawrence way, with biceps the size of New Zealand and a six pack. No. In fact, she's pretty sure she can spot a little tum under his T-shirt, which she's kind of embarrassingly endeared by. Percy is attractive in that way that is soft smiles and obnoxious laughter, awful jokes and faded Bon Jovi shirts older than him. He's got long fingers and pretty eyes, a mop of hair that doesn't stay down and a pair of Converse that have duct-taped together.

Percy is beautiful in a way that you don't get in Hollywood films. He's beautiful because he's the opposite of a Hollywood film, a boy with a lopsided grin and a little bit of tummy, who doesn't kick around a football or wear leather jackets but trips over his own legs and permanently smells of chlorine, who'll destroy her in Monopoly but will visit her when she hurts herself to make sure she's okay.

She has to sit back.

She thinks she likes him.

"Your turn, Lois," Percy tells her. "Just saying, you're kind of screwed no matter which number you roll because you're surrounded by my property and the Go To Jail space, so enjoy your last moments alive."

No.

She _knows_ she likes him.

She rolls a three, lands on Mayfair and ends up bankrupt. She thinks it's a good metaphor for how she's feeling, actually.

* * *

 **A/N: iSpy but every time it says 'percy/annabeth laughs' it speeds up**

 **crikey mia say something else**

 **Anyway! Sorry for the long wait, friends. I've already whined to you about how school has hit me with a bus and then two trains, so I'm not going to complain any more, but if you need a reason to feel bad just remember I have six tests next week and have revised for exactly 0 of them so go me**

 **Saturday might have to be my official updating day, I'm so sorry. I know I said I'd try to do twice a week, but I've been sporadically working on this throughout the week and with the amount of homework I've been getting I think that's all it's going to be. Oh well? At least this chapter had percabeth woo?**

 **But I hope you liked that one, guys. I kind of liked it. Also, thank you all so much for 76 comments! Literally I almost started crying reading them all, you all are so so lovely :DDD thank you so so so much honestly you da true chiz**

 **As always, please tell me what you thought – maybe some parts I could work on? – and I'll see you all next Saturday. Bye! x**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

" _handsome stranger, you have made her wonder 'is she pretty?'_ "  
\- absolutely smitten, dodie

* * *

Now that Annabeth has come to terms with the fact that she has a crush on Percy, it's unnecessarily making life a lot harder.

First of all, she can't even sit next to him without zipping with electricity, and frankly it's a right pain in the bottom. Annabeth knows that Lois's grades are meant to be average as to not raise suspicion, but she does like to pay attention class, and this whole 'crush' thing is making it ridiculously impossible. In English, when the two of them are packed next to each other like sardines, Annabeth's whole body is on overdrive. She's hyperaware of every single inch of skin that is touching, and especially now that it's beginning to warm up and they're both swapping their sweaters and long-sleeves with T-shirts it's _skin-on-skin._

 _Skin-on-skin._

Annabeth has had to _seduce_ people before and yet the fact that she's touching arms with a _boy_ is what's getting her flustered? She's never been so ashamed.

Like. Come _on_.

"It's perfectly normal," Piper assures her. "Side effects of having a crush."

Annabeth lets out a helpless moan. "Ugh."

"Oh, don't worry," Piper consoles, carding her fingers through her curls. "Having a crush is a beautiful thing. _Embrace_ it."

"I want to throw it in the bin."

Piper looks mildly affronted. " _Why_?"

"Because it's disgusting?" Thalia suggests. "It's gross? Boys are horrible?"

"Yes, thank you, Thalia."

Anyway.

Long story short, having a crush is just a lot of hard work, and Annabeth doesn't think she's prepared to put it at all in. Especially if by some bizarre chance Percy _did_ happen to like her back and their relationship became a Capital R Relationship, in which case she'd have to manage to balance Lois and Annabeth on a massive scale. Because both Lois and Annabeth like Percy, no problem there.

But Percy only likes Lois.

It's like Romeo and Juliet with an ambiguous third love interest.

"Hey, Lois."

"Not now, Percy. I'm working."

"What does 'ne regardez pas ses yeux' mean?" **(1)**

Annabeth freezes. "Um. Revision notes."

"We don't do French."

"I've got a tutor at home."

"Oh, cool. What does it mean?"

"Uh. 'He went to the shops'."

Percy frowns at it, and Annabeth holds her breath. She knew it was a bad idea to fill up the back of her hands with little reminders of things generally considered socially unacceptable that she is not allowed to do, but she had been struggling and now needs it to glance down and remember that no, she's _not_ allowed to stare at Percy from across the classroom because a) it's slightly creepy and b) not subtle at all and now her cover's been blown and she just _knew_ it was a bad idea–

"That looks around right," Percy says. "I don't know French to save my life so I'm going to just go with you for that one."

Oh.

Well. Thank goodness.

See, it's not that Annabeth has to periodically remind herself not to lovingly gaze at Percy's eyes throughout the day to the point where she had to write it in French on the back of her hands, but it's kind of exactly that. This whole 'crush' thing is utterly impossible to handle. Annabeth doesn't know how some people do it.

She could probably take down the whole school with her eyes closed, and now one boy with a stupid grin and sparkly green eyes has absolutely ruined everything to the point where she has to remind herself _not to stare_.

It's humiliating, that's what it is. And she can't even talk to Piper and Thalia about it because they're utterly useless.

("Follow your heart," Piper had urged. "And be patient. Love isn't always instant." "I don't care," Thalia had interrupted through a mouthful of toast. "I want nieces and nephews. Confess, get married and start having kids. Preferably pronto.")

"You've got a lot of French revision notes," Percy notices.

Annabeth shoves her sleeve up, covering the _n'écoutez pas son rire_ **(2)** and the _ne regardez pas son sourire non plus_ **(3)**. "I've got a test coming up," she fibs. "I want to get good marks."

"Miss Watermann, Mr Jackson?" Ms Dodds calls dryly. "Is there a problem?"

"Not at all, ma'am," Percy tells her, beaming. "Don't let us stop you."

Ms Dodds's eye twitches. "Thank you, Mr Jackson."

When she turns around to write something on the blackboard, Percy winks. "I know how to wrap them around my finger."

"I think it's more like she wants to wrap _her_ fingers around your throat."

"Nonsense," Percy says dismissively. "Ms Dodds adores me."

Ms Dodds turns around. "What was that, Mr Jackson?"

"Nothing, ma'am," Percy tells her chirpily. "I was just telling Lois how well the two of us get along."

"Yes, well." Ms Dodds's hand tightens on the chalk, like she's imagining it's Percy's neck. "That's one way to put it, Mr Jackson. Detention."

"For what?"

"Disrupting my lesson. Get back to work."

Percy rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and then sends Annabeth a smirk that's honestly much too cocky for his current situation. "I told you we're best buds."

Annabeth starts to giggle, before remembering the _également ne riez pas de ses plaisanteries, il l'encourage_ **(4)** scribbled on the inside of her forearm and swallowing the rest of her laughs.

It doesn't even work very well, because not two minutes later Percy leans to whisper in her ear, "This lesson is so easy, I suppose you can call it a _Dodds_ -le" and Annabeth almost chokes.

Oh well. _Également ne riez pas de ses plaisanteries, il l'encourage_ is overrated, anyway.

(They both end up getting sent out again. It's okay. Annabeth's laughing too hard to care, anyway.)

* * *

"What are we even watching?" Thalia complains.

"It's a documentary on whales," Annabeth tells her. "Now shush, I want to listen."

"I don't."

"No one cares what you want."

"Clearly, otherwise I wouldn't be forced to sit here watching sea creatures float around eating krill and making your average mumbly-jumbly aquatic animal noises." Thalia huffs and folds her arms. "This is so boring."

"Then leave," Annabeth reprimands.

Thalia grumbles, but stays where she is.

They're having what Piper likes to call a 'Girls' Night'. Thalia hates the name and frankly so does Annabeth but by the time they had both come to that conclusion Piper had already drawn out a graph titled GIRLS' NIGHT PLAN in which she scheduled the days said Girls' Nights would be happening, which so far has been every night. Annabeth would love to be able to complain, except for the most part Girls' Nights are actually quite enjoyable. Normally they put on a hideously outdated chick-flick, where everyone wears flare jeans and uses a flip-phone, and poke fun at all the dumb mannerisms and clothes, but today for some reason when they were going through the channels they managed to stumble across a peaceful David Attenborough documentary on beluga whales and it's been utterly fascinating the whole way through.

Well. For Annabeth, anyway. Piper and Thalia look like they're about to fall asleep.

"Can we please change it?" Thalia whines. "We'll even put on the Notebook."

It's tempting.

"No," Annabeth says. "Aren't you guys finding this interesting?"

Piper at least has the decency to look apologetic. "Not really."

"Barbarians, the both of you."

"I don't know how you're finding this even vaguely amusing," Thalia grumbles, shoving crisps into her mouth. "At least I can see the appeal of The Notebook. This is making me want to go and pluck out my leg hairs. _Individually_."

"It's not that bad."

"It kind of is," Piper says. "No offence, Annie."

Thalia reaches over and grabs the remote out of Annabeth's hands, and then switches off the TV before she can protest. Betrayed, Annabeth stares at the now vacant screen.

"What was that for?" she demands.

"We were about to fall asleep," she says bluntly. "Let's do something else."

"Like what?" Piper asks. "Monopoly?"

Annabeth has to stare very long and hard at the _quand le Monopole est mentionné ne pensez pas à Percy_ **(5)** on her arm, which doesn't even really do anything except make her think of Percy more.

"No." Thalia's smile turns wicked. Annabeth can see the pieces of crisp stuck to her lips and teeth. "I was thinking more along the lines of truth or dare."

Annabeth groans. "Oh, for heaven's sake," she grouches. "That's so pathetic."

"But it's fun."

"That's only because we'll all be able to tell when someone is lying."

"Exactly."

"I don't want to play," Piper says. "The last time we played truth or dare I had to eat a teaspoon of mayonnaise."

"And it was good, was it not?"

"I had tears coming out of my _nose_."

"Irrelevant," Thalia says dismissively. "I'll go first. Annabeth, truth or dare?"

Annabeth frowns. "Why is it _me_?"

"Because I said so. Now, pick truth or dare."

Annabeth sighs. Truth is the cowardly option, but she really doesn't fancy having to eat a teaspoon of mayonnaise. Piper spent at least half an hour with her head in the toilet bowl shuddering and retching last time. "Truth."

"Excellent." Thalia's eyes gleam. "Why did you really get sent to New York?"

" _Thalia_!" Piper admonishes, scandalized. "You can't just ask that!"

"No, it's okay," Annabeth says.

Thalia nods at her triumphantly. If it weren't for the ridiculous amount of crisps in her mouth she probably would have done something mature like stick her tongue out.

Annabeth picks up the remote. "I know who I'm running from, anyway."

The crisps fall out of Thalia's mouth. Piper gapes.

"What?" Annabeth asks.

Thalia shoves the crisps back in her mouth. It's more than a little gross. "You _know_ what person is trying to kill you?"

Annabeth is bewildered. "Uh, yeah?"

"Does the Society know?" Piper asks frantically. "Does Chiron know?"

"Yes? Look, this isn't a big deal."

"Isn't a big _deal_?" Thalia laughs humourlessly. Flecks of crisp shoot out of her mouth like confetti. "Annabeth, if you know who's trying to kill you the Society can track them down. You don't have to _be_ here. You can be safe."

"It's really not that simple." Annabeth crosses her legs and pats either side of her on the couch. "Come, children. Auntie Annabeth is going to tell you a story."

Piper bounds over right away, shoving her head against Annabeth's collarbone and snuggling into the arm Annabeth throws over her shoulder like an excitable little puppy. Thalia rolls her eyes, but she goes too.

Unfortunately, she brings the crisp bowl. Annabeth hopes she doesn't plan on continuing to shove her face with them when they're all sitting so close.

"So," Annabeth says conversationally, like they're discussing the weather and not a psychopathic serial killer. "First and foremost, his name is Luke."

Piper grunts unhappily. "That's such an average name."

"Yes, well, not all of us are that special. Anyway, so Luke and I grew up together. It wasn't anything massive. We weren't best friends or anything. We just grew up together, kind of like next-door neighbours. Our parents were close, though. You ever heard of the Olympus Circle?"

Thalia snorts. "Is that a trick question? Annabeth, the Society _is_ the Olympus Circle."

"Well, there was such thing as the Inner Ring. You guys probably know them as the Big Three."

Piper stares at her. "Your parents were the Big Three?"

"They were _in_ the Big Three. It got started by three brothers and then got gradually passed down. So there's about twelve of them now. Or. There was, anyway. We'll get to that later.

"So my mom and Luke's dad were part of the Inner Ring. The Olympus Circle is top-secret and confidential, but the Inner Ring was that times ten. It was completely guarded. The only people who knew about it were the people in it and Chiron, who trained their kids when they were in meetings. So the Inner Ring knows basically all the tips of the trade in the international spy industry. If any of that information got leaked it could bring down countries. It was powerful. And of course, the only way you could get into the Inner Ring was by being born into it."

Piper's eyes go even wider. " _You're_ part of the Inner Ring? Holy crap."

"Not exactly. The deal is, is that when a child of any of the members of the Inner Ring turns sixteen, their respective parent tells them all the secrets so they can take their place later on. It's been that ways for decades. Except not this time, because Hermes – that's Luke's dad – noticed that Luke had been acting a little off. And on a whim, he didn't trust him enough to tell him anything."

Thalia whistles. "Ouch."

"Yeah. And naturally, Luke was furious. Hermes did the right thing – Luke's actions only proved it further – but Luke was so, so _angry_. He got so angry he left the Society completely. But he wanted all the information, right? Still does. And he knew that I was the only one he was going to get it off. He went on a massive killing spree and ruthlessly murdered all the other Inner Ring kids – Chiron reckons it was a scare tactic –, but then he tried to kill me a couple of times and Chiron sent me here so I'd be safer."

Piper gawps at her. "How– how are you saying that so _casually_?"

"I mean. It's not the first time I've been targeted by a serial killer, actually."

"Oh yeah." Thalia shoves more crisps in her mouth. Annabeth winces. "I heard about that. They talked about it for ages, too. Did you know we had to watch security camera footage and write _essays_ on what you did well and what you could improve on?"

Piper looks even more in awe. Annabeth is mildly afraid that she's going to pass out. "That was _Annabeth_?"

Annabeth squeezes Piper's shoulder. "Of course."

"I gave you a five point seven out of ten, by the way," Thalia adds. "You didn't impress me until the end when you did that dive. You went so far. Your trajectory was outrageous."

Annabeth is more than a little peeved. "A _five point seven_? Are you kidding me?"

"I gave you an eight," Piper says. "And I didn't know you at the time so I can't have been biased."

Annabeth preens a little. "Was it for setting the deck on fire?"

Thalia scoffs. "I thought that was the tackiest bit, actually."

"No," Piper says earnestly. "I gave you an eight because you ran in heels and I was remarkably impressed at how fast you were going. We were given to-scale pictures of your footwear and foot size and we had to work out the pivot and the amount of pressure on your toes. You were like Speedy Gonzales in stilettos."

"Honestly, I'm still disappointed that you didn't blow up the whole thing," Thalia says. She picks up a handful of crisps. "That would have been incredible."

"I also would have died."

"Would that have been such a bad thing, though? Like, if you weren't alive I wouldn't be stuck in this crap little apartment babysitting a brat and an overgrown squirrel."

Annabeth hits her with a pillow, and Thalia's crisps go everywhere. They land mainly on Piper, who indignantly squawks and wriggles out from under Annabeth's arm, waddling to the bathroom whilst yelling out, "I'm covered in Thalia's disgusting saliva crisps gross gross gross!"

Annabeth wrestles Thalia into a headlock. "Take it back, you cow."

"Okay, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Let go, you're choking me!"

Annabeth retracts her arm from around Thalia's throat. "Good, that was kind of the point."

Thalia pulls a hideous face, but doesn't push it any further. She kneels to the ground and begins to pick up the crisps that had fallen on the floor. Even though it's disgusting and Annabeth is sure ninety-percent of them have at some point been inside Thalia's mouth she joins her.

"You don't actually mind being here, do you?" she asks softly. "Like, it's not– it's not _that_ bad, is it?"

"Oh no, it's utterly awful. But you guys aren't half-bad, so."

"Aw, Thalia!"

"Shut up. You're still a brat."

Annabeth gives her an obnoxious kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Grace."

"Yeah, yeah." Thalia pushes her off but she's (badly) suppressing a smile. "I love you too, whatever."

* * *

Percy is extra jumpy the next day.

Annabeth isn't even sure why, unless he managed to go home and translate the words on her arm. She's added a few more – a few _vous ne devez pas certainement penser à la façon dont beau vos enfants seront_ s **(6)** and a couple of _vous n'avez AUCUN PAPILLON_ s **(7)** here and there – and she's pretty sure she's stained the inside of her sleeve from the amount of times she's had to push it up to stare at one of the phrases on her arm until Percy's eyes/hair/smile/general being get out of her mind.

But Percy? It's like he's been overdosed with caffeine, because he will _not stop jittering_.

It's almost worse than the whole Piper/hot chocolate escapade. All throughout English, he vibrates next to her, his leg bouncing up and down against her like a hyperactive squirrel on overdrive. It's can't be his ADHD, because by this time Annabeth has managed to work out his triggers (it's generally things like tests, schoolwork, lectures and listening to One Direction) but Annabeth is beginning to reconsider it because there is absolutely _no logical reason_ why he should be so nervous.

"Perce?" she asks softly. "Is everything okay?"

Internally, she crosses out _également ne lui demandez pas que s'il est bien parce qu'il te donnera un regard triste et vous n'êtes pas immunisé contre ces regards êtes beaucoup car vous insisteriez autrement_ **(8)** written above her elbow _._

"Huh?" Percy asks. "Yes, I'm grand! More than grand! I'm amazing! Amazeballs!"

Annabeth eyeballs him, and yep, there goes _ne le regardez pas_ **(9)** as well. "Um?"

"Sorry." Percy shakes his head. His shoes are tapping against like the ground like an inconsistent dubstep drumbeat. "I'm fine. Just– just a little wired, you know?"

"Why?"

"Um. I, uh. Had a lot of sugar this morning."

And if Percy thinks she believes _that_ he must be soft in the head.

Annabeth decides to, for now, leave it. If Percy wants to talk about it, he'll talk about it – and she knows he will, because after so many lessons in evaluating the different kind of human tremours she's managed to pin him down like a butterfly to a corkboard under 'nervousness' but also 'excitement'. He's got an announcement of some sort that he's bursting to say but can't out of fear.

Which Annabeth gets, you know. Ever since she came to the conclusion that she had a crush she's kind of wanted to screech it in his ear and babble about it all day, every day. But she can't. Because that would be weird and Percy probably would never be able to look at her in the eye ever again.

She glances at the clock, and then at the tap-tap-tap of Percy's fingers against the table.

She gives it roughly four minutes.

Four minutes later, Percy turns to her with a slightly wild look in his eyes.

"Um," he says.

Annabeth raises an eyebrow expectantly.

"Okay," he says. He swallows and Annabeth watches his Adam's apple bob beneath his skin – she makes a mental note to add _n'observez pas sa gorge (parce qu'elle est étrange)_ **(10)** to her arm. "Um. You wouldn't– uh. Hypothetically."

"Hypothetically."

Percy speaks so fast Annabeth almost can't make out what's he saying. "You wouldn't want to come to my house after school, would you?"

It takes Annabeth too long to process what he just said, and Percy takes her silence of dissecting his words and thinking _wait what just happened_ as rejection.

"Only if you wanted to!" he stammers out, looking horrendously awkward as if he believes he has just ruined their friendship. "Like, no pressure. At all. None. It's just– my mom kind of wanted to meet you? But if you don't want to come it's cool, honest, it's really fine–"

"Percy!" Annabeth interrupts.

Percy flushes red. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's okay." She tries for a smile that doesn't convey the screaming YES YES YES in her head. She thinks she does a good job because Percy doesn't start to look any more terrified. "I'd, um. I'd love to come."

Percy stares. "Really?"

"Sure. If. You didn't mind?"

"I mean. I offered, so."

"Oh yeah."

They sit there for a bit.

"So, you wouldn't mind coming?" Percy asks nervously.

"Not at all. I'd love to meet your mom."

"She's gonna smother you."

"I love being smothered."

She doesn't really, because the last time any sort of smothering had taken place in her immediate vicinity was two years ago and done by an assassin with a plastic bag that had almost killed her, but if Percy is anything to go by the only smothering his mom will be doing is giving hugs. And Annabeth loves hugs.

Especially Percy hugs. But those don't seem to be happening any time soon unfortunately, so she supposes his mom will suffice.

"She's going to adore you," Percy says.

"I hope so. But I'm, um. Not very good with meeting parents."

"Nonsense, you'll be wonderful. My mom's already half in love with you from just the idea of your existence. When she meets you I'm pretty sure she's going to replace me as her only child."

Something stirs in Annabeth's stomach. That's– a _really_ nice sentiment.

Well. Kind of, because if that did happen they'd be siblings and, you know, interfamily crushes are not cool. But it's a lovely thought nonetheless.

"Are you sure?"

Percy gives her an earnest nod, and with his green eyes glittering like that it's kind of hard not to stare. "Incredibly so. She's dying to meet you."

Annabeth smiles. "What have you told her already?"

Percy's cheeks pink. "Um. Not much."

"Uh huh."

"Yeah."

"Right. What have you told her really?"

"Just some stuff."

"Like?"

"Your name is Lois."

"That's a start."

"Um. You're quite smart. You laugh at my jokes."

"Correction: I laughed at _one_ of your jokes."

"Still counts, technically."

"Technically."

" _Mr Jackson, Miss Watermann_."

They both turn to the front.

Ms Dodds looks incredibly unimpressed. "This is the third time I've caught you talking this lesson, not to mention the countless other times I've busted you this semester. Do I need to separate you two?"

Annabeth blurts out a frantic, "No!" before she can stop herself. Leo does a heart-hand sign across the classroom, and Percy's cheeks darken.

"Well, then." Ms Dodds gives them a steely look. "Make sure you start to pay attention more, hm?"

Annabeth clenches her fists under the table. She wishes Ms Dodds knew that she was a certified child protégée from the age of six and can probably outsmart her in seconds with her vast, knowledgeable brain and the fact that she can speak twenty-eight different languages fluently, but, you know.

She must respect that doing that would probably humiliate Ms Dodds and even she wouldn't stoop so low as to embarrass old ladies.

"What a loser," she says instead when Ms Dodds turns around.

Percy nods promptly. "I agree."

* * *

 **French translation:  
(1) - do not look at his eyes  
(2) - do not listen to his laugh  
(3) - do not look at his smile either  
(4) - do not laugh at his jokes, it only encourages him  
(5) - when Monopoly is mentioned do not think of Percy  
(6) - you must definitely not think about how beautiful your children will be  
(7) - there are NO BUTTERFLIES  
(8) - also do not ask him if he is okay because he will give you a sad look and you are not immune to these as much as you would insist otherwise  
(9) - do not look at him  
(10) - do not look at his throat (because that is weird)  
** **Tell me if I missed any more!**

* * *

 **A/N Hey guys!**

 **This ended up being a lot more pipabelia than i thought but oh well. I'm not too sure on this chapter if I'm being too honest - i was also originally going to have the scene where they go to percy's house in this chapter too but i had to split it in half or it would be too long. next chapter is all percabeth, promise x**

 **also - guess who turned fourteen? thIS GIRL! It's a new year, guys. new year, new me. my resolutions as a fourteen-year-old are to exercise more and eat less junk food (as i say slumped on the sofa eating chocolate lmao aren't i off to a good start) and hopefully to start writing more. this story has given me the encouragement to start writing again (i was in an awful state of writer's block isn't it horrendous) so woo fanfiction!**

 **speaking OF: thank you all so so much for all your reviews. you literally do not know how much they mean to me. I wish i could like individually write out each and every one of you who reviewed and ramble my thanks out to you to show you how much i appreciate you and i don't want to do just one of you so KNOW i love you all thank you xxxxxxxx**

 **anyway! as always, please tell what you thought, and i'll see you next saturday (hopefully with a much better chapter). Bye xxxx**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

" _baby, you showed me what living is for / i don't want to hide anymore_ "  
\- crazier, taylor swift

* * *

The area in which Percy lives is, to put it frankly, utterly disgusting.

As soon as they step off the train, Annabeth is hit by the overwhelming smell of _dumpster_. She has enough etiquette to not plug her nose so publicly but she finds herself scrabbling around in her pocket for a tissue to clamp over her nose under the guise of blowing it probably far too many times to even consider being subtle.

After the fifth or sixth time, Percy mumbles, "Sorry."

"About what?"

"Don't be silly, Lois. You've blown your nose about twelve times in the past minute."

"Oh." Annabeth meekly lowers the tissue. "Sorry, I just–"

"It's okay," Percy says cheerfully. "I know it smells."

Annabeth tries for a smile. "That's not necessarily a bad thing."

"Yes, if by 'smells' you meant 'of roses', not 'the inside of a toilet'."

"I mean. Whatever floats your boat, I suppose."

Percy starts to laugh. "Name me one person who would prefer a toilet to a rose."

"I would. I'm allergic to roses."

She's not, but it's worth seeing the bashfully pleased look on Percy's face afterwards.

They wander down a small alleyway that looks like it's survived six natural disasters. Washing lines are strung up above their heads like fairy lights, dangling between windows dripping water and clothes. They make the whole alleyway smell damp, a little like the smell you get when you wrap your swimming costume inside your towel, and behind the pungent layer of stale water Annabeth gets a whiff of thick cigarette smoke and something like pee. Instinctively, she reaches out for Percy's hand. She finds it quickly, her fingers wrapping around his before she can really realise what she's doing, and by the time she does and has flushed to the roots of her hair Percy has already adjusted their grip so their fingers are laced together.

Above them, someone yells and there's a shattering of glass. They pass a group of drunk minors yelling lewd things about girls, and Annabeth stiffens when one them yells, "Yo, Princess! Fancy a snog, eh?"

Percy's hand tightens around hers. "Ignore them," he mutters to her. "They're always there. All they do is talk. They won't actually hurt you."

Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be true today.

When Annabeth doesn't respond, the boy who catcalled her pushes himself off the wall. "Hey, I'm talking to you! What, you too good for me or something?"

Percy keeps moving, but Annabeth can feel her palm become slippery with sweat. She lets go of Percy's hand to wipe hers down the leg of her trousers and the boy takes the opportunity to grab her arm. "Hey!"

Percy lets out a startled little squeak but before he can do anything Annabeth whirls on the boy. His fingers are clamped around her bicep, his nails stained yellow and his breath reeking of beer. He looks maybe a year younger than her.

It takes Annabeth two seconds to Study him.

"You mute or something?" the boy jeers. He shakes her arm. "Talk to me."

"Let her go," Percy says bravely.

Annabeth ignores him. Instead, she stares at the boy right in the eyes. "If you don't get your hand off of me within the next five seconds," she says calmly, "I'll call the headteacher of Vineyard Middle School and tell her that her son is committing quite a serious felony."

The boy removes his hand like he's been burned. The other boys, the ones who two seconds ago had been whooping and hooting, fall silent. He stares at her.

"How did you _know_?" he whispers.

Annabeth really can't be bothered to explain it. Like. It was so obvious. He's got a good haircut and his trainers are expensive. He can't live around here – it's a dump and his family has definitely got the money to live somewhere much nicer. He's drinking in the daytime with a bunch of his friends – all of whom look like they _do_ come from around here, because their hair is shaggier and their clothes are ripped and fraying – and even an idiot wouldn't day drink unless he had a real reason to. It was probably absent parents. The dad didn't matter – it was the mom that did, because if he really hated her he wouldn't wear the clothes (they were nice but they had definitely been chosen by a mom). And to know she was a headteacher? Well, he looks sensible enough. She can't be anything exciting, but she makes too much money to be your average teacher.

Honestly. It was so simple.

"I know places," is all she says. "Now. _Scram_."

She doesn't need to say it twice. Immediately the boy scarpers off, his mates lumbering after him with their six-packs of beer and dollar bin plimsolls.

She turns to see Percy staring at her in awe.

"How did you _do_ that?" he asks in a hushed voice. " _How_ –?" He falls silent. All he can do is marvel, like she had just sucker-punched her way out of it or turned into a flying horse.

Annabeth shrugs bashfully. "I, um. Guessed?"

Percy laughs disbelievingly. "That was a pretty lucky guess."

"Yeah. I wasn't even sure it was Vineyard."

That's a lie. She was. The boy was wearing jeans and a polo shirt to indicate he went to a public school but he had a Vineyard middle school pen poking out of his back pocket, and it looked too new for him to have had it since he attended.

"Well." Percy is still looking at her like she just descended from heaven. "I mean – wait, I haven't even asked if you were okay. Did he– he didn't _try_ anything, did he?"

Annabeth shakes her head. "I'm okay."

Percy gives her a dead look. "Yeah, right. Let me look."

"I promise."

Percy doesn't stop staring at her until she relents and shows him her arm where the boy grabbed her. She will admit, it does actually hurt a bit – nothing massive compared to what she's used to – but she definitely is not expecting the ring of purple where the boy's fingers used to be. She stares it, almost as shocked as Percy.

"Lois, that's a _bruise_ ," Percy says, astonished. "We need to get to the hospital."

"No, it's okay," Annabeth says. "It doesn't hurt."

And it _doesn't_ , not really. She's surprised that it's as dark as it is.

"That looks pretty serious."

"It's fine. Honestly. I have no idea why it's bruised so much."

Percy stares at her long and hard. Finally, he says, "Fine. But you're letting me have a look at it when we get home."

"Doctor Percy."

"Damn straight."

"Since when could you give people proper check-ups, Jackson?"

"Gabe," Percy says, so dismissively that the mood doesn't drop. "I got beat up a lot. I learnt how to take care of myself."

"Oh."

"Don't look so sad. It's not a big deal. We all do it."

He probably meant it in terms of learning how to put on a plaster, but for Annabeth it meant breaking her ankles and having to fix herself up in under three minutes before the bomb she had jumped out of a window for exploded.

Maybe they were more similar than she thought.

(Their general wellbeing, she means. Not the bomb.)

"Yeah," says Annabeth.

"I might actually want to be a doctor when I grow up," Percy says.

Annabeth cocks her head. "I thought you wanted to be a marine biologist."

"I do. But also a doctor."

"Marine biologist by day, doctor by night."

"Coming soon from Marvel."

They start moving again. They've been standing in a dark alley for so long that Annabeth hadn't noticed the sky slowly getting thicker with clouds, because once they're out and Annabeth peers upwards she's mildly surprised to see it blanketed in angry grey clouds.

"Percy," she says.

"Hm?"

"I think it's going to rain."

And, as if on cue, thunder booms in the distance and rain rumbles around them like confetti.

* * *

Annabeth absolutely loves Percy's mom.

After the rain starts, they both make a run for it. It's coming down hard and heavy, the raindrops hitting their bare arms almost painfully, and by the time they reach Percy's apartment block – which is still pretty unpleasant; it's covered in graffiti and it has a suspicious smell about it far too similar to pee for Annabeth's taste – they're out of breath, giggling and soaked completely to the bone.

As they're climbing the stairs to his apartment, Percy shakes his head like a dog, spraying the walls with water.

"I would complain," Annabeth tells him, "but I'm so wet and cold I can no longer feel anything."

"Oh dear," Percy says insincerely.

"At least _try_ to make it sound meaningful."

Percy laughs. "I'm sorry. When we get home you can borrow some trackies and a T-shirt. Maybe that'll warm you up."

"Key word: maybe."

He groans. "Bloody hell, you're difficult."

Annabeth preens. "You love it."

When Percy grumbles, "Unfortunately," he does it almost too quietly for Annabeth to hear. But she does and she goes scarlet.

Luckily, he's too busy wringing out his shirt on the steps to notice.

He and Annabeth trudge all the way to his front door, trailing water behind them like capes. He unlocks the door and kicks off his shoes at the welcome mat, nodding at Annabeth to do the same, before throwing his keys on a hook by the door. "We're home, Mom!" he calls.

As soon as Annabeth steps in the house she's engulfed by _warmth_. While the area and the apartment block itself were shocking Percy's apartment was the homiest, loveliest place she's ever seen. It's not expensively furnished, not in the slightest, but there are books stacked up against the wall and photos all across the wall and framed quotes hanging absolutely everywhere. It smells like cookies and laundry soap and when Percy's mom comes around the corner Annabeth almost cries.

She doesn't even acknowledge Percy. Instead, she looks straight at Annabeth – tangled, stringy dark hair, wet clothes and sheepish expression – _squealed_ and then wrapped her up in a hug that felt like summer and love.

"Oh, Lois!" she coos. "You're so pretty, sweetheart!" She turns to Percy for the first time, who looks a little disgruntled that he hadn't been noted of yet, and bats at his shoulder. "You didn't do her any justice whatsoever!"

"Nice to see you, too, Mom," Percy mutters, but there's no heat behind it. Percy's mom laughs and he rolls his eyes, stripping his shirt off.

And– yes. That happens. Annabeth has to pinch her knee very firmly to stop herself looking.

Maybe she should add it to her arm. Or write it on a bracelet. It might be more easily accessible that way. She could sell them. Have _s'il enlève sa chemise ne regardez pas_ **(1)** sewn into them.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Percy," Ms Jackson says exasperatedly, her eyes twinkling. "Don't get naked in front of your guest. Go into your room – and watch how you hold that shirt, you're dripping water all over my floor."

Percy laughs and swings it above his head like a lasso, splattering water everywhere.

"Perseus Jackson – "

"All right, all right, I'm going."

Cheekily, he wiggles his bottom as he walks out the room. Annabeth is too busy admiring the way his back muscles flex to see Ms Jackson's fond eye roll, but she turns her attention back to her multicoloured eyes when she starts to speak again.

"It's so lovely to meet you, Lois," Ms Jackson says. "Percy's already told me so much about you already."

"You too, Ms Jackson." Then she suddenly becomes aware that she's standing in the middle of her hall covered head to toe in rainwater, and she takes an apologetic step backwards. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm covering your floor in water–"

"Oh, it's not a problem, love," Sally says. "I just harped at Percy because he's my son."

"I heard that!" Percy shouts.

Sally laughs. "How about you go over to Percy's room and see if he has any clothes to give you?"

"Sure."

Annabeth pads down the corridor. Sally disappears in the kitchen and Annabeth pokes her head through various doors until she comes across one through which she can hear Percy loudly serenading his wardrobe with an out-of-tune rendition of Under The Sea.

"Percy?" she calls, and the singing abruptly stops.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

"Can you?"

"Oh, shut up. I meant, 'are you decent'?"

"That depends what your take on decent is."

"Is your penis and/or butt hanging out?"

There's a pause and then a burst of laughter. "No."

"Great, I'm coming in."

Percy's room is almost exactly how she expects it to be when she opens the door. It's small and simple, with a mattress on the ground a lot like her and clothes everywhere. The walls have been whitewashed and there's something that looks like mould growing on the ceiling but it smells like boy and the sea and there are photos taped up on the wall. There are so many one of the walls is simply a sea of faces and colours, and Annabeth is briefly taken aback.

"Impressive, huh?" Percy materialises next to her. With a suppressed grimace, Annabeth notices quite quickly that by not classifying that a shirt would have also had to be worn in order for decency to be achieved she's standing remarkably close to a topless Percy Jackson.

Which is quite hard to easily dismiss. Because. _Shirtless_.

"Yeah," she says. "I like it."

"Thanks. It took ages, especially since Grover refuses to cooperate when it comes to pictures."

"Photo shy?"

"Picky. He's always like, 'no, I look awful!'"

"Huh." Annabeth sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. "I would have thought Jason would be like that."

"He is. It's just he looks perfect in every picture so he never needs to."

He's not wrong. Annabeth does another quick survey and notices that indeed, all the pictures that include Jason he always looks like a model at a professional photoshoot. Annabeth wonders if he smolders like that all the time or he has an inner radar that detects when a photo is being taken that switches it on.

"He looks like a Calvin Klein model."

Percy nods excitedly. "See, that's what I tell him. But he doesn't believe me."

"Does he have abs?"

Percy lets out a girlish sigh. " _Does_ he."

Annabeth giggles. If she didn't know better she would assume Percy had a crush on Jason.

"Also," she says, "um, before I forgot, can I borrow some clothes? I'm a bit wet."

"Oh no, of course." Percy leans down and starts looking through one of his drawers. "Do you have any preferences?"

"Um, something dry?"

"Excellent choice." He lobs a T-shirt at her over his shoulder and then a pair of trackie bottoms. "I'll camp out in the bathroom, you get changed. You can leave your wet stuff in a pile there, and I'll get Mom to wash them to bring in tomorrow."

"Cool, thanks."

Percy smiles at her as he pads into the bathroom.

Annabeth slowly peels off her wet clothes. It's kind of gross, because they've half-dried now so they're stuck to her body and when she throws them on the ground they land with a wet smack, but she manages to take everything off. Unfortunately, her bra and knickers will have to stay on, and they're the wettest thing, but she supposes she can't everything.

She slides on Percy's trousers first. They're soft and warm and smell like him, and she has to hairpin the waistband so it fits around her hips and roll up the legs so she doesn't trip (because Percy has legs six hundred miles along and normal human beings can't fit into things like that). However, things go slightly askew when Annabeth begins to unfold the T-shirt, because at that moment Percy strolls in.

Annabeth screeches in alarm. "Get out!"

He doesn't. He just stands and gapes. "You're not wearing a shirt."

"Yes, I'm quite aware of that. Now please can you get out?"

"Oh, yes, sorry." He shuffles towards the door. "Um. I like your bra."

"Oh, thank you." Annabeth glances down. "It was on sale."

They stay like that for a bit.

Then Percy bows his head and says, "Well, I'll, uh, leave you to it," and waddles away.

As soon as he's gone, Annabeth glances down at her tummy. Months of living off of processed food with little exercise has gotten rid of her flat stomach and now it's a little soft – she pulls at it unhappily. Why, the first time a boy sees her with no shirt, does it have to be when she has some pudge on her? Ugh.

Crossly, she pulls on the shirt. It comes down to her thighs.

Abs are overrated, anyway.

* * *

Percy and Sally are in the kitchen when Annabeth pads in a few minutes later.

Percy shuffles up on the bench so Annabeth can wiggle in next to him. Their legs are tightly pressed together and Annabeth is quite hyperaware of everything that he does, whether it be reaching for another biscuit or even breathing heavily. The bare skin where their arms touch feels like it's on fire.

"Lois, sweetheart," Sally says, pushing her a cookie (for some reason they're blue, but Annabeth doesn't question it). "Tell me about yourself."

"Oh my God, Mom," Percy groans.

"No, it's okay," Annabeth says. "Well. I'm sixteen years old. I used to live in Florida. Uh. I like English. I don't like Biology. Algebra's cool."

Percy nudges her. "Insightful."

"Oh, hush," Sally chides. "What about your parents? What do they do?"

"This isn't an interrogation, Mom."

"They work in stocks. They're in Alabama at the moment for a conference."

"Ah." Sally stirs her tea. "That's lovely. Do you know what you want to do when you grow up?"

"An architect would be fun."

Annabeth has never told that to anyone. She bites down on her lip. Why the hell did she just say that?

But Sally seems delighted. "Oh, that's wonderful! Do you like designing buildings?"

Annabeth is about to say 'no'. Being an architect has been one of her secret dreams for years. If she weren't a spy, she would _kill_ to be architect. Nowadays, it's more like she just kills. But then Percy sighs into his cookie a little, and Annabeth remembers that she's pressed up against the boy she has a crush on, wearing his clothes with her wet hair brushed behind her ears, and for a second it feels so homey that she lets herself get carried away.

"Yeah," she says. "It's, um. Sometimes I redesign popular buildings, just to see what I would do differently. Like the Empire State Building. If you rebuilt it in the modern era you could probably add a few different arches to it, like in the doorway. You would have to rearrange the measurements, because, like, you can't have a turret arch when the whole building is built like it is, but if you adjust the way it curves and make it so the base is flatter and more squat, then I think you'd be able to do it fine."

Sally watches her with soft eyes. It's such a mothering look that Annabeth almost cries. "That's wonderful, Lois. Follow your dream."

"Personally," Percy interjects through a mouthful of cookie, "You lost me at 'I redesign popular buildings'."

"That's because I'm smart," Annabeth says.

"Rude."

"I never said anything against you."

"You implied it."

"Implications don't exist."

Percy creases his eyes. "What– what does that even _mean_?"

Annabeth laughs, and so does Sally.

Annabeth wishes she could stay here forever. In a little bubble, with Percy and Sally and these blue cookies and the kitchen counters in a boy's clothes with inspirational quotes on the walls.

She looks over at Percy, who's laughing with his pretty eyes sparkling, and she thinks that maybe she could fall in love.

* * *

 **French Translation:  
(1) - if he takes off his shirt, do not look**

* * *

 **A/N GUYS WE HIT 100 REVIEWS**

 **that's absolutely nuts. Literally thank you all so much for your endless support you're the best. And because I want to show you how much I love you I'm gonna do a quick respond thing because i want to all to know how much your reviews mean:**

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	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

* * *

" _and you were such a mess, i thought it was sweet_ "  
\- chasing ghosts, against the current

* * *

They're in the middle of watching The Shining when Annabeth says, "I think I'm going to ask Percy out tomorrow."

Thalia absently shushes her. " _Shh_."

"Are you sure we should be watching this?" Piper asks nervously. "It's a bit– graphic."

"It's a classic, of course we should be watching it."

Annabeth clears her throat. "Guys?"

"Besides," Thalia continues, as if Annabeth hasn't spoken. "You've seen worse than this in real life, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but– that's real life. This just makes me uncomfortable."

" _Guys_."

"You two are such wusses," Thalia says. Apparently, Annabeth is still invisible. "I put this movie on so we could laugh at how bad it is – like, come on, that much blood doesn't come out when you stab someone. But look at you! You're scared witless!"

"I'm not scared witless," Piper says weakly. "I still have my wits. And don't you go acting all high and mighty! You're acting like you haven't so much as flinched."

"That's because I haven't."

"I have _nail marks_ in my arm, Thalia."

"Well, it's only to be expected, isn't it? It _is_ a horror movie, after all."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. Bloody hell. " _GUYS_!"

Thalia swears and pauses the movie, and then glares at her. " _What_ , Annabeth?"

"I'm going to ask Percy out tomorrow."

Thalia does not look impressed. "So?"

Annabeth is momentarily stumped. "Wh–... What do you mean _so_? I thought you were the one rooting for us."

"I am," Thalia says. She even has the nerve to look irritated, which kind of makes Annabeth want to hit her across the face. She instantly suppresses the thought with _no I love Thalia I love Thalia I love Thalia_. "It's just– we're in the middle of a movie."

Piper nods next to her. "It's kind of true, Annie."

Annabeth lets out a disbelieving laugh and slumps against the cushions. Unbelievable. The amount of disrespect in the room is actually rather borderline offensive.

She tells them just as much.

"You're one to speak," Thalia says. "You made us pause the movie to tell us something we already knew."

"You didn't know I was going to ask him out," Annabeth says.

"We did, actually," Piper says matter-of-factly. When Annabeth gives her a cold glare, she hastily stammers out, "only a little bit, though! It was just a guess!"

"Either way," Thalia says, "I wasn't surprised and I'm not bothered to act like it. Now shut up, I want to finish this movie without any of you brats interrupting me _again_."

Annabeth rolls her eyes petulantly. Piper pats her hand sympathetically, but once she's sure Thalia's fully immersed in what's happening on the screen she leans up and whispers in Annabeth's ear, "Tell me the deets after the movie's finished, I want to know everything" with a little hair stroke, and Annabeth wants so badly to be annoyed with her but knows she can't because she's patting her curls like she's a little dog and she _knows_ that her weakness, so instead she wriggles around and puts her head in Piper's lap, nosing at her knee indignantly when she doesn't immediately start fondling her head again.

"Can I braid your hair?" Piper asks, a little too loudly.

"If you both do not shut up within the next seconds I'll rip out your veins and braid _them_ instead, how about that?"

"Sorry, Thalia."

The proper conversation happens after the movie has finished. Piper is utterly frozen with fear, long after the ending credits have rolled off screen, and Thalia is in the kitchen making dinner as best as she can with the meagre food supplies they have. Annabeth crawls off her lap and strokes her hair, and Piper's head falls onto her shoulder.

"That was terrifying," she says robotically.

"It's finished."

"I have a boy in my class called Johnny too, Annabeth. Do you know how _bad_ this is going to be?"

Thalia walks through the door, balancing three plates in her hands. "As long as he doesn't slam down a door with an axe you should be fine," she says, throwing herself down on the sofa next to Annabeth. Annabeth takes one of the plates and stares at it.

"You have to be joking."

"Not at all."

"This can't be dinner."

"I worked with what I had, Annabeth. It's not the artists, it's the supplies."

"But–" Piper looks so pathetically disappointed Annabeth almost cries. "It's just a sandwich."

"If that," Annabeth says. "It's bread with cucumber slices on it."

"It's all we have," Thalia says. "And if you don't want to starve you'll eat it."

Piper stares at it gloomily. "I don't even _like_ cucumber."

"Tough."

"I think there's mould on the bread," Annabeth says thoughtfully.

Thalia sighs. "You two are so _picky_."

"Excuse me if I don't want to get poisoned."

"You won't get poisoned."

"There is a _species of fungi_ growing on my _food_."

"Quite visibly, too," Piper adds. "I can see it."

Thalia huffs. "Look, are we going to hear more about Annabeth's sudden desire to propose to Percy or do you want to keep harping at me because there is a speck of something on your bread?"

Annabeth sulks. "You'd complain too if there was an ecosystem of something on your dinner."

"Here, you can have mine if you want," Piper offers.

"No, let her eat it. Now. Tell us about Percy."

"I thought you didn't want to know."

"We were watching a movie. I want to know now."

"Do tell, Annie," Piper implores.

"I mean, what even is there to say?"

"You want to ask him out," Piper prompts.

"Yes, well. That."

"I swear he's meant to be the one asking you out," Thalia says.

"I mean, that would be the preferable option, because then I wouldn't potentially risk embarrassing myself on the chance that he doesn't like me at all."

"Don't be silly," Piper says. "Percy adores you."

"Well, of course you'd say that. You're my friends."

"I'm not," Thalia says. "I only mildly put up with you two."

Piper rolls her eyes fondly, and then turns back to Annabeth. "So, what are you going to do?" she asks. "Wait for him to ask you out?"

"Well." Annabeth tries to shrug as best as she can with Piper's head on her shoulder. "Yeah."

"That's a terrible plan," Thalia says. "I say ask him out."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because! What if he says no? I need to wait for him to do it. Then I'll know."

Thalia snorts and waves her hand dismissively. "Please, the kid barely has half a pair, let alone a full pair of balls. He'll never do it. He's too shy. You'll have grey hairs by the time he works up the courage."

"She's not wrong," Piper adds. "I'd go for it."

"What do I even say?"

Thalia pretends to think. "Hm, how about: yo, you want to go on a date with me?"

"Do whatever feels natural," Piper assures her. "You guys are good friends. I'd maybe crack a joke or two. Don't make it too flirtatious, because that will just make everything uncomfortable. Just do you."

"Tell him you wouldn't mind having his children later on in life," Thalia said.

"Yeah, no."

"You could make him a PowerPoint," Piper suggests.

Annabeth stares at her, aghast. "On what, why he should go out with me?"

"Yeah!" Thalia chimes in, much too enthusiastically. "Maximum seven slides. You don't want to seem too eager."

"Minimum two," Piper adds. "It'll make you look uninterested."

"I'm not making him a _PowerPoint_."

"Consider it," Thalia says, pushing herself to her feet. "It's not a bad idea."

(Annabeth does _not_ make a PowerPoint, thank you very much. She has _some_ respect for herself.)

* * *

They have PE the next day.

It is welcomed with mixed reactions.

"I hate PE so much," Hazel grumps.

Annabeth nods, but actually she quite enjoys PE. She's in reasonably good shape, despite having put on a few pounds from her wayward diet and lack of exercise, and she likes sports. Back at the Society they'd always muck around with a football or basketball and she was always in par with the boys twice her size. However, you know. Must keep up a role and whatnot.

"Is there a way we can skip?" she asks.

Hazel gives her a wry smile. "Unfortunately not. Frank said that Coach Zimmer isn't here today, so we've got Coach Hedge, and he knows _all_ about how much we hate PE. For every absence he'll go to the office and check it's been authorized throughout the day."

"Crikey."

"I know." Hazel shoulders her PE kit and beams at her. "You ready?"

The PE kit at Marino is hideous. It's not even so much the colour and shape so much as it is the sizing. The only available sizes are extra small and extra large, so while some kids are swimming in their uniform some are straining against it. Chiron had ordered two large, because there was no way Annabeth was going to even try squeeze into a tiny PE kit with a bunch of hormonal boys around, but something went wrong so her shorts were extra large but her T-shirt was extra small.

"You have a great top half, though," Hazel had said when Annabeth told her. "That's a plus, I suppose."

Things don't go very well in the changing rooms, however.

The changing rooms are the central hotspot for gossip and trash talk. Annabeth always walks out much more educated on the love lives of her classmates then she did when she walked in, but it has a nasty side, as all girl-centred things generally do. The girls who talk – namely Drew Tanaka, Silena Beauregard and Nancy Bobofit with the occasional guest appearance from anyone else who has something to say about whoever is unfortunate enough to be the topic of that period's conversation – are shameless, and so there have also been many times where girls have left in tears because Nancy couldn't keep her opinions to herself about the size of their thighs.

Annabeth hasn't been scrutinized yet. She's been taught to get changed quickly, and normally she's in and out within two minutes. This week is slightly different, however.

"Hazel," Annabeth hisses. "I think my PE shirt shrunk in the wash."

Hazel looks appalled. "But it was already small, wasn't it?"

"Exactly. It would fit a five-year-old."

"What are you going to wear?"

"I have no idea."

"Levesque," Nancy calls. She's the nastiest. "Who you talking to down there? Your PE bag? I mean, I knew your mom was cray, but I didn't know being a nutso was genetic."

Annabeth's blood boils. She straightens from where she was curled into a little ball at Hazel's feet. "I do exist, Bobofit," she says coolly. "S'pose it's a bit hard to see through those fake lashes, huh?"

Nancy almost goes as red as her hair. "Shut up, Watermann," she hisses. "At least I'm not fat."

It's a pathetic insult and Annabeth knows it but she glances down self-consciously all the same. She's only wearing a bra, because her normal T-shirt had already been shoved to the back of her locker when she made her discovery, so her tummy is on display to everyone. She _knows_ she's not fat, but ever since Percy walked in on her sans shirt she's been feeling a little odd about it. She has put on a little weight, she knows that, but it's not that much, is it?

Nancy sees it in her eyes and Annabeth hates herself the moment she sees her lips curl up in a smirk. Number one rule: do _not_ show weakness.

"With a stomach like _that_ I don't see any boy wanting to date you," Nancy says rudely.

Silena tries to stop her. "Leave it, Nancy," she says desperately.

Nancy doesn't. She keeps going. "I mean, you're like, ginormous. Who would ever want to love someone like that? They'd break their backs trying to sweep you off your feet."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "Shut up, Bobofit. Unlike you, I'm not so dumb and co-dependant that I need a boy to survive."

"S'lucky," Nancy says. "I don't think anyone would willingly touch you with a ten-foot barge pole." She starts moving across the changing rooms. Silena tries to pull her back but Nancy shakes her off easily. Even Drew is watching with narrowed eyes. Drew can be mean but she knows where to draw the line. In fact, everyone is in silence as Nancy stalks her way over to Annabeth. She's only in her tight little shorts with her own stomach and bra on display, and with a sinking feeling Annabeth notices her stomach is, indeed, a little fuller than Nancy's.

 _Bloody hell, Annabeth. Get a grip._

"See?" Nancy reaches over and snaps the waistband of Annabeth's shorts. "So fat and disgusting she has to wear an extra large."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Annabeth says. "I didn't realise wanting to remain decent and cover up automatically meant that I'm overweight. Whoopsies."

Nancy's eyes narrow. "Are you _trying_ to be pathetic, Watermann?" She kneels down and picks up Annabeth's jeans, which have been lying discarded on the floor ever since she shed them off. "Oh, what a surprise. You're a size twenty."

Annabeth puts on a sugar sweet voice. "Actually, if you had the brain capacity to read, you'd be able to realise that the label says _eight_ and not twenty." She pats her shoulder. "Lying is a sin, Nancy, and really just makes you look dumb."

Silena giggles, but as soon as Nancy whips around to give her the most dangerous look Annabeth has ever seen on a teenage girl she wipes the smile from her face and widens her eyes to stop laughing.

"Well, at least I don't–" Nancy pauses midsentence and tilts her head. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Annabeth peers down at her tummy to see what she's looking at.

Nancy looks disgusted. "I'm not actually going to touch you, gross. That ugly thing _on_ your stomach. What is it? It's not a birthmark, is it?"

Annabeth zeroes in on what she's pointing out and immediately feels sick.

It's the scar from where the table leg impaled her back at the bakery. She's got another one on her back. It's big and white, roughly the size of her fist, and on the side of her abdomen, and if you look very closely you can see sixteen smaller ones in either side from where they had to sew her up and then cut the stitches out when she accidentally fell down the stairs and stretched them. There's no way she can get around this one.

"It's a burn," she says. "It happened when I was little."

Hazel is staring at it, wide-eyed. "That's a– serious burn, Lois."

"Yeah. I, um. Fell into a barbecue."

"It's still ugly," Nancy says.

"For heaven's _sake_ , Bobofit," Clarisse says rudely. Clarisse is one hundred and forty pounds of pure muscle and stringy brown hair and she can and will punch you in the nose. She is the only person most people will ever listen to, and that's only out of fear that they'll get a facial if they dare disagree with her. "No one bloody cares."

Nancy scowls at her.

Hazel opens her mouth, as to say something, but then she snaps it shut. "Do you need a shirt to borrow?" she asks instead.

Annabeth nods. "That would be nice, yeah."

Hazel gives her a soft smile. "I'll go ask Hedge if I can rootle around in Lost Property for one. Don't worry." However, just as she's about to leave, she fleetingly pauses. "Also, um. Ignore Nancy. You're beautiful. She's just jealous."

Something like love fills Annabeth's stomach. "Thank you."

Hazel gives her a shy smile and darts off.

Sometimes, Annabeth really appreciates her friends.

* * *

By the time Annabeth and Hazel sit down at their lunch table Leo is already halfway through storytelling a dramatic rendition of his PE lesson.

"–and so Hedge has us playing _volleyball_ ," he says theatrically. "Volleyball! Can you imagine? Me, a tiny little innocent angel child, having to play volleyball against mountains like Beckendorf and Michael Kahale?"

"Did you get beat up?" Frank asks hopefully.

Leo shakes his head. "I got hit on the head and faked a concussion, so I got the rest of the period off."

Percy frowns. "That's such a disappointing ending."

"You didn't seriously expect it to end with me whooping their butts, did you?"

"Well. It's a thought, isn't it?"

"That's nothing compared to us," Hazel says. "Nancy Bobofit picked on Lois today in the changing rooms."

"Nancy?" Frank asks. "She's the one with the red hair, isn't she?"

"It wasn't a big deal," Annabeth says.

"Yes, it was!" Hazel argues. "She was simply horrid to you."

"What did she say?" Leo asks. "Can't be any worse than what us lads say to each other."

Frank snorts. "No wonder you can't get a date. You know nothing about girls."

"You should have heard her, Leo," Hazel says earnestly. "She was being awful, telling Lois all sorts of rubbish about her size and whatnot. Imagine!" She lowers her voice and flitters her eyes elsewhere nervously, like she's afraid of being heard. "She was acting a bit like a cow, actually."

"But Lois isn't fat," says Percy. "That's so weird."

Annabeth fidgets. "It's honestly not a big deal."

"But you're not!" Percy insists. "I've seen your stomach and it's perfectly ordinary."

Frank laughs. "Since when?"

"Since when what?"

"Since when have you seen Lois's stomach?"

Annabeth suddenly feels very hot. She can see Leo suggestively wiggling his eyebrows and making crude gestures with his hands, and she kind of wants to throw her yoghurt at him before deciding otherwise, to spare him both his clothes and his dignity. Still, it's an option. She sticks out her tongue and points to it so he knows.

"I went to his house a while back," she says. "He accidentally walked in when I was changing."

Hazel looks horrified.

"Accidentally, huh," Leo says suggestively.

"Yes, actually," Percy says. "Unlike you, I have respect. And decency."

"And girls in his life to walk in on," Annabeth says.

Leo pulls a hideous face at her. "Oh, ha ha."

"Girls are brutal, man," Frank says. "I try and avoid them if I can."

"We're not all like that," Hazel says. "Only some. Like Nancy."

Percy shakes his head. "I just don't _get_ it. Why would she say that if it's wrong?"

"Perce, honestly," Annabeth assures him. Where no one can see, she slips a hand onto his thigh and rubs it reassuringly. "You're making this a bigger deal then it needs to be. 'You're fat' is the generic go-to insult for all girls. And besides, as if I'm going to be affected by that. Nancy's stupid."

Percy is still frowning, so Annabeth throws caution to the wind (along with her dignity and all sensibility she might have) and threads her fingers through his under the table, so their intertwined hands are resting on his thigh. She holds her breath, and is just about to pull away and drown herself in one of the toilets when his hand twitches and his fingers tighten around hers.

"I promise, it's okay," she says. "Honest."

Percy nods, and after she experimentally strokes her thumb across the back of his hand she _finally_ feels him deflate. "Okay."

"Good."

"Yo," Leo calls, and Annabeth looks over. "Are you two lovebirds finished yet?"

Annabeth scowls and points at the yoghurt pot. Watch out, she mouths.

To his credit, Leo doesn't even look scared. Annabeth would think twice if she were him. From personal experience once yoghurt settles it _reeks_. With one flick of her spoon she could make him smell like a sour milk carton for the rest of the week.

Leo launches into another story, something stupid involving a pretty girl and guacamole, but Annabeth isn't listening. All she can think about is her conversation with Thalia and Piper yesterday.

 _"_ _I say ask him out."_

 _"_ _I can't."_

 _"_ _Why?"_

 _"_ _Because! What if he says no? I need to wait for him to do it. Then I'll know."_

 _"_ _Please, the kid barely has half a pair, let alone a full pair of balls. He'll never do it. He's too shy. You'll have grey hairs by the time he works up the courage."_

She looks over at him. Percy is laughing at something Leo said; his eyes are screwed up so she can only see a slice of green and he's doing that thing with his nose whenever he finds something particularly funny, where he scrunches it up and ducks his head, like he's embarrassed. It's honestly one of the most endearing things Annabeth thinks she's ever seen and the fact that he's still holding her hand really doesn't help, either.

She can't stop the bubble of insecurity, however. Will he say yes? Is asking him on a date really worth the risk of losing their friendship forever?

 _"_ _Don't be silly," Piper says. "Percy adores you."_

She looks at their laced fingers on Percy's thigh, and watches as Percy subconsciously tightens his grip when Annabeth accidentally shuffles away.

 _Yeah_ , she thinks. _Maybe it is._

* * *

No it's not it's absolutely not she can't do this.

So. They're standing in an empty classroom after school, Percy watching her expectantly (which she supposes is fair because, you know, she was the one to drag him in here) and Annabeth is ninety six percent sure she's going to throw up.

This isn't going to go well. She might just chicken out altogether.

Then she imagines how Thalia and Piper would react.

 _Pull it together, Chase._

"Percy," Annabeth announces.

Percy nods. "Lois."

"How are you?"

"Me?" Percy looks slightly taken aback. "Oh, I'm good. Uh, you?"

"Good, good."

"That's– good."

Annabeth nods and shoves her hands in her pockets, tonguing her cheek. Percy rocks on the balls of his feet. The entire room is in suffocating silence and Annabeth kind of wants to tear her hair out.

"So," Percy says. "Um. What did you need me for?"

 _You can do this, Chase._ "I, uh. Actually wanted to ask you something."

"Oh." Percy looks pleasantly surprised. "Oh, cool. What is it?"

"It's a bit awkward."

"How awkward is awkward?"

"Extremely."

"Oh, wow." Percy presses his lips together. "It's not– period advice, is it?"

Annabeth stares at him. "No, what the hell?"

"Sorry! I just thought– you said it was awkward."

"And periods are the most awkward thing you could think of?"

"I didn't know what else! The only other things I could think of were boy advice or a proposal."

Well. "I mean. You're not– _wrong_ , per say."

Percy's forehead creases. "So... it _is_ about periods?"

"No! I mean, um. Boy advice. And/or a proposal."

Cautiously, Percy eyes her. "You're seventeen, Lois."

"I'm not going to propose, don't be silly."

"Oh." Percy pushes his hands into his pockets. "Boy advice. Okay. What do you need to know?"

"Dating," Annabeth says.

"What about it?"

"How would you go about it?"

"How would you go about dating?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Um. Well, you'd have to find a partner, first off."

"No, I mean how to ask said partner out."

"Are you asking me how to ask someone to go on a date?"

Annabeth feels her hands begin to tremble. "Quite right."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well. You'd have to be nice about it."

"In what ways?"

"You can't demand them. Be polite, I suppose."

Oh, for heaven's sake. This is ridiculous. "Look," Annabeth says. "Do you want to go on a date with me?"

And Percy just.

Blinks.

Annabeth's confidence drains far, far too quickly and she feels her heart float up into her throat. She even feels her eyes burn and she's never hated herself so much. "Oh God, you don't like me like that. I'm so sorry, oh my God, I just, um, must have been reading the wrong signs, I'm so _sorry_ –"

"But I was meant to ask you," Percy says, crestfallen.

Annabeth stops talking, and stares at him. "What?"

"I–I was meant to ask you. I had it all planned out."

"But– I only asked you because I thought _you_ were too scared."

"No, I was just trying to find the right time. I–I was _so_ sure I was going to make it amazing, I even asked Jason for advice and everything."

"Oh." Suddenly Annabeth feels awful. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Too late now. You've already beaten me to it."

"I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry. Jason's full of crap, anyway. It would have been awful."

"Not if you were the one doing it," Annabeth admits, and suddenly her entire face flames because that was the dumbest thing she thinks she's ever said. Percy seems to like it, though, because his cheeks go pink and he ducks his head and mumbles a, "Not really."

"I'm sure it would have been romantic."

"Honestly, Lois, it wouldn't have been. He suggested writing a speech."

Annabeth giggles. "You're kidding."

"Not in the slightest. He told me to buy you flowers."

"I'm not actually a massive flowers person."

"I'll remember that." Percy gives her a bashful smile. "So, um. Are we going on a date now?"

Annabeth nods, suppressing a girlish squeal. "I think so."

"Okay." Percy beams. "That's. That's cool."

"Yeah."

They dopily grin at each other for a few moments, before Percy snaps out of his stupor.

"Yeah," he says again. His cheeks are rosy with a blush and Annabeth wants to squeak at how cute it is. "Um. Yes. I need to, uh. Get home and stuff, but I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Annabeth nods eagerly. "Yeah."

"Text me the details."

"I don't have to plan the date, do I?"

"Oh, you absolutely do."

"Oh, God."

Percy laughs. "Text me. We'll plan it together."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, Perce."

"You too, Lois."

* * *

 **A/N Hey guys!**

 **I hope you liked that one. I'm actually not that ashamed by this so that's an improvement hopefully, and also thank you so so much for all your reviews. honestly you guys are like the best readers i could ever hope to have thank you for being so so wonderful xx**

 **(also i just want to give a shoutout to my homies TheWritingManiac for being so lovely and not eating me alive when i got the name of her fic wrong [you the best amigo], ImpossibleThings12 for just... existing and being probably the nicest kindest most thoughtful person actually ever and the guest 'musicalbookworm' for sending in i think the best review in the entire world and of course absolutely everyone else you're all absolutely incredible) **

**So announcement time (aka shameless self promo)**

 **I have a wattpad now? Yeah, that happened. so in case any of you would be interested in reading any of my original stuff it's there (i mean, i probably won't do anything much with it except upload the sporadic one-shot every now and then). My username is herecomesthepun (there's a link in my bio, which should work if you copy-paste it in the search bar) so woo. that's a thing and stuff. yay?**

 **Anyway! I really hope you liked that chapter. As always, please tell me what you thought and I'll see you next Saturday! bye my lovelies xxxx**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

* * *

" _and i see colours in a different way / you make what doesn't matter fade to grey_ "  
\- bright, echosmith

* * *

"What should I wear?"

Piper hums from where she's lying on the mattress. "Put on your blue dress for a second."

"Wait, hold on," Thalia says. "You can't wear a dress on your first date."

Annabeth frowns. "Why?"

"It'll look like you're trying too hard."

"But– I look nice in my blue dress."

"Ignore her," Piper interrupts. "She doesn't know anything about fashion."

So things aren't going so well, which. You know. Is slightly worrying, considering Annabeth has a _date_ and it's with _Percy_ with the sparkly eyes and pretty laugh and it kind of needs to be _perfect_.

And Thalia and Piper aren't helping in the _slightest_.

All they've been doing is lounging on the sofa like two lazy kittens, making off-handed remarks that often have nothing to do with Annabeth's date. And whenever someone _does_ make a relevant comment, like Piper with her suggestion that Annabeth should wear her blue dress, the other person almost always immediately shoots it down. It's making Annabeth feels all sorts of conflicted and they even started on her hair.

"Wear your blue dress," Piper encourages. "But Thalia's right, don't wear your heels. That would be a bit much for a first date. Do you know what you're doing?"

"No. Percy said it was a secret."

"Then you have to dress in neutral clothes, you know? Like you have to wear something that is simultaneously appropriate for rock-climbing and also a fancy restaurant."

Thalia scoffs. "If any boy took me rock-climbing on our first date I'd smack him in the face."

"Percy isn't going to take me rock-climbing," Annabeth says indignantly.

"You can never be too sure."

"Yes, I can. Percy isn't taking me rock-climbing. That's positively absurd."

"I mean." Piper shrugs. "You say that. Wait until he does."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "Fine, then. Hypothetically, Percy takes me rock-climbing, and then to a fancy restaurant – which, by the way, he's probably not going to do, either. What shoes do I wear?"

"Converse," Thalia says.

Piper scrunches up her nose in distaste. "No. Your Converse are all muddy."

"I literally have no other shoes."

"You have your flipflops. And your boots."

"Firstly, we're not going to a beach. And secondly, I'm going on a date. I can't wear my boots on a date."

"Yes, you can," Piper says. "I can monogram your Lois initials into the side with pink thread so they're more appropriate."

"Yeah, no thanks."

"Just wear your Converse," Thalia says. "They're your best bet."

Annabeth chews her lip. "Are you sure I shouldn't wear my heels?"

"Absolutely," Piper says. "That's something Thalia and I can agree on. Unless Percy takes you ballroom dancing do not wear heels. Besides, you're always complaining about how uncomfortable they are."

"Well, it's a date. Pain is beauty, right?"

"Wrong," Thalia says.

"You're one to talk," Piper says pointedly. "You're wearing a T-shirt and _sweatpants_."

"I'd rather comfort is ugliness than pain is beauty."

Annabeth nods her head. "Okay, um. So, blue dress, Converse. Anything else?"

"No," Piper says. She pushes herself up off the couch. "I'm going to get some food."

"Good riddance," Thalia mumbles when she leaves the room.

" _I heard that_!"

Thalia rolls her eyes, and then pats the sofa next to her. "Come, child."

Obediently, Annabeth folds herself up against Thalia's side. Over time, Piper and Annabeth's neediness and affection must have worn her down, because now whenever Annabeth wants a cuddle and Piper isn't home Thalia only grumbles for a few seconds instead of for the entire duration. Nowadays, she's even initiating the cuddles, which pleases Annabeth immensely. She rests her head on Thalia's shoulder and Thalia fiddles with the end of her curls.

"How you holding up, kiddo?" Thalia asks. "You nervous?"

"A bit."

"You'll be fine."

"I hope so. I..." She pauses. "I really like him, Thalia."

"I know. He likes you, too."

"You can't possibly know that."

"I've met him, remember? He looked so worried, Annie, like he was scared you had been seriously hurt. Friends don't care that much."

"They could."

Thalia hums. "Besides, he said yes, didn't he?"

"What if he said it out of pity?"

"He didn't, pup. Trust me. This date will go excellently and you'll get married and have lots of babies, and you'll name them all Annabeth and Thalia and Piper and he won't be any wiser because he'll still think you're Lois."

Annabeth smiles. "Yeah."

"Say, what time is Percy picking you up at?"

"Around four, I think."

Thalia stares at her.

"What?"

" _Four_?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Annabeth, it's _one_."

Annabeth holds up her hands defensively. "I want to be prepared!"

"You got me out of bed on a Saturday before eleven to prepare for a date that's happening at _four_?"

"Oh, hush," Piper says, walking in the room. "Have some cake."

"I don't want any cake."

"More for me, then." Piper offers the plate to Annabeth. "Cake?"

"Yes, please."

"Don't spill any on your dress."

"I won't, _Mom_."

Annabeth takes a plate and a slice and starts picking at it with her fingers. These days, their meals are consisting solely of something from a can (usually baked beans, chicken or sweetcorn) and then cake. (There had been a big debate about this, actually. "You can't keep buying cake," Annabeth had said. "We need, like, proper food." "I try not to, honest," Piper had responded. "But the cake aisle comes before the aisles with all the proper food and it just always smells so good. I can't help it!")

* * *

Percy arrives at ten past four.

("Typical," Thalia had said. "Boys are _always_ late.")

When the doorbell rings, Piper shrieks and throws the remote at the TV in excitement. Annabeth suddenly has a pit in her stomach and she stares at herself in the reflection of the window, wondering if maybe all that cake was a good idea. The dress doesn't make her look fat, does it?

"Answer the door!" Piper squawks.

Annabeth looks at her desperately. "I can't do this."

Thalia huffs. "I did not get up at nine am for you to chicken out. Come on." She drags Annabeth to the door and flings it open.

Percy is standing there, looking a little awkward. He's holding a picnic basket and for a second Annabeth is taken aback by the way his T-shirt brings out the blue in his green eyes and frankly he just looks very good and it just doesn't do anything to calm Annabeth's nerves. If anything, it only makes things worse.

"Hey," she breathes.

Percy beams at her, a little bashfully. "Hi. You, um. Look nice."

"So do you."

They stand there smiling awkwardly at each other for while. Annabeth is just about to snap out oh her reverie and suggest heading off, when Piper materialises next to her. Annabeth stares at her.

"Hey," Piper says, offering Percy her hand to shake. "I'm Tess, Lois's cousin."

"I'm Percy. S'nice to meet you."

"Yes, you too." Piper beams at Annabeth. "Now, there are just some ground rules I want to settle before you two go gallivanting off."

Annabeth is mortified. "Oh my God, _no_ ," she says. "Percy, let's go."

"No, hold on," Piper says, grabbing onto her wrist. "Rule one, Percy, please don't impregnate her."

From somewhere behind her, Annabeth hears Thalia burst out laughing. She feels her face burn progressively hotter.

"Rule two, Lois is my cousin." Piper fixes Percy with a steely stare. "That means that if you even _think_ about hurting her I'll disembowell you and cut out your tongue. Are we understood?"

Percy nods, looking a little scared. Annabeth doesn't even blame him.

"All right." Piper sweetens up immediately. She presses a kiss to Annabeth's cheek. "Have fun."

" _Bye_ ," Annabeth all but shouts, and then she steps outside and slams the door shut. She's never been so embarrassed. She's going to slice Piper in half.

"I'm so sorry," she says.

Percy looks a little disheveled. "It's okay."

"That was so embarrassing."

"S'what cousins do best, I suppose. Don't worry, Lois. It was funny."

Annabeth takes a shuddery breath. "I want to bleach my mind."

Percy laughs. "Please don't do that." He offers Annabeth his arm. "Shall we be off, m'lady?"

Annabeth accepts and curls her hand around his bicep. He stares at her, as if he wasn't expecting her to actually do it, and Annabeth simply shoots him an innocent smile. "We shall."

They leave the apartment block, Annabeth bidding goodbye to the doorman with the friendly smile. They head down the street together

"So, what's the plan of action?" she asks.

Percy looks like he's suppressing a smile, although it doesn't work very well because his left cheek is dimpled and his eyes are glittering. "We're having a picnic," he says proudly.

Annabeth stares at him. "What, really?"

"Indeed. Prepare to get _wooed_ , Lois Watermann."

"I mean. That all depends on how good the food is."

"Oh, it's excellent. My mom helped me make it. And my mom is a pretty fantastic cook, so."

Annabeth laughs. "Well then, I'll be looking forward to it."

They walk in comfortable silence. Annabeth hasn't a clue as to where they're going – before coming to New York she made it her duty to memorise a map of New York, so on the off chance that if someone, namely Luke (or anyone else, really; Annabeth has a lot of people who would be more than willing to kill her), kidnapped her she'd be able to work out where they were going from movement and speed of whatever vehicle she had been bundled into. However, Percy is going all over the place – instead of sticking to the main roads, the ones Annabeth has engrained in the back of her skull, he takes a sudden left and soon they're clambering through _bushes_. They stumble across a fence, and Percy kicks a few slats out the way and gestures to her to climb through it.

"You're not planning on murdering me, are you?" she asks. Because, like. It's really beginning to look like a possibility at this point.

Percy swears good-naturedly. "Aw, darn it. You caught me."

"In all seriousness, though. We aren't going to rob a bank, are we?"

"Yes, Lois. That's exactly what we're doing. That's why I decided to wear a bright blue T-shirt."

"Hide in plain sight, you know."

Percy turns around and gives her a look that she thinks is meant to be exasperated but is much too fond for it to be considered anything even remotely close. It lights a fire in the pit of her stomach and she thinks she just might be a little bit in love.

"We're nearly there," he says. "And then you can see for yourself that we're not robbing a bank. I need to introduce my lifestyle to you slowly, which is why this time we're robbing a house."

Annabeth laughs. Oh, if only he knew.

Percy leads her down a number of hidden paths, ducking through wire fences and sneaking around the back of a private car park. It's silly and dumb and extremely amateur compared to other places Annabeth has had to sneak into, but because she's got Percy with her, a solid reassuring warmth against her side when they have to quickly roll beneath a Benz so the man with the thin grey hair and immaculate pinstriped suit doesn't catch them illegally loitering, it makes everything so, so much better.

"You know," Annabeth says conversationally. "This was really not how I thought my first date would go."

Percy snorts. "I had to make sure I outdid all your other potential suitors."

"Oh yes, out of all zero boys who are vying for my attention."

"I'm a boy."

"You don't count. We're on a date now. You've already got my attention." Annabeth gestures as best as she can with the limited space she has. "I certainly won't be forgetting this any time soon."

"It could have been worse. I could have chosen the Mustang."

"Either way, the date hasn't even started yet and I'm already under a car."

"It's all part of my charm."

Annabeth scoffs, but she doesn't disagree.

Finally, they manage to get themselves out from beneath the car. Annabeth is honestly quite beside herself at this point. She's dying to know where Percy's taking her – at first, she had assumed it was just a park, but lying on gravel with an engine humming above you for twenty minutes really changes a person. She wonders what on earth is so special that Percy would risk sneaking across someone's private property for.

She soon finds out.

They stumble across a main road, and Percy beams at her. "Nearly there," he says. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," Annabeth says. "Also very pleased I didn't wear heels."

"Yes, that wouldn't have been fun."

They walk for maybe about five more minutes before Percy turns to her with an awkward smile on his face. "This is it," he says. "It's, um. Yeah."

Turns out, it is a park. But it's not just any ordinary park. In fact, the second Annabeth walks in her breath is taken away. " _Wow_."

It's absolutely beautiful. It's a stretch of green that goes for hundreds and hundreds of metres in all directions, framed by a thick fringe of trees so unless you knew it was there you wouldn't be able to see it. There are daisies and daffodils dotted all over, little clusters of white and yellow, and somewhere near what Annabeth can only assume is the middle of the field there are several bigger trees with trunks the size of a small elephant.

"Oh, Percy," she gasps. "This is _beautiful_."

Percy gives her a bashful smile. "You like it?"

"Like it? This is _incredible_. How on earth did you _find_ this place?"

Percy explains as they walk across the field. "Grover's parents are real plant people. Always have been. Some distant relative of his – I think it might be a step-great-grandfather of some sort, whatever – bought this piece of land, and it's been in the Underwood family for generations. It used to be an orchard, for apples and stuff, but something happened so it's not anymore. Grover's dad gave me permission to use it. So I thought I'd show you."

"It's amazing," Annabeth says. "Honestly. This was worth sitting beneath a car."

Percy laughs.

They decide to sit under one of big trees in the middle of the field. Annabeth goes to sit down on the grass before lets out a squawk and almost drops the picnic basket in the attempts to get her to remain standing up.

Annabeth is startled. "Sorry?"

"You can't just sit on the _grass_!" Percy splutters indignantly.

"Why not?"

"Because! This is a date. Your bottom deserves more than just grass."

This boy. Annabeth has to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. "That's very sweet of you, Percy, but I think my bottom will survive."

"I've got a picnic blanket. Here, hold this for a second." He thrusts the picnic basket in Annabeth's arms and pulls a blanket out from one of the sides, unfolding it dramatically and settling it down on the grass. "See, you can sit on this."

Annabeth smiles and plops herself down next to him. "Wow, what a difference."

"Don't be sarcastic. At least you aren't going to have spiders crawling up and down your legs."

Annabeth's smile becomes strained. "Haha."

Percy notices. He cocks his head. "Not a big fan of spiders?"

"That's one way of putting it."

"Arachnophobia?"

Annabeth bristles. "No– no, just. We have a mutual respect for each other."

Annabeth hates admitting she has arachnophobia. Spies are meant to be indestructible, and yet here she is, her mortal weakness being something as stupid as _spiders_. In Annabeth's mind, if she doesn't say it, she doesn't have it. As far as anyone needs to be concerned her relationship with spiders is one of a requited, healthy fear. They don't have to know that she is deathly afraid of them.

Percy shrugs. "Fair enough. I mean, I'm dead scared of pigeons."

Annabeth stares at him. "But– you live in New York."

"Yes, that does make things a bit harder."

"Why on earth would you be scared of _pigeons_?"

"Have you seen their claws? If they wanted they could rip out an _eye_. I don't want anything capable of ripping out my eyes anywhere _near_ me, thank you very much."

"But pigeons are so sweet."

"No, they're not. They're flying monsters of doom."

Annabeth laughs. "Whatever you say."

They settle back against the tree trunk, and Annabeth watches as Percy unpacks the picnic basket. He pulls out a number of things: a couple of cupcakes, a plate of blue cookies wrapped in cellophane, a few slices of pizza in tinfoil, some sandwiches and two bottles of water.

Percy offers her an awkward smile. "Um, I wasn't sure what kind of sandwich you liked, so I made ham and cheese. Is that– okay?"

"That's fine. I love ham and cheese."

Percy huffs out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank heavens. I was so worried."

Annabeth laughs a little and then picks up the plate of cookies. "Why are these blue?"

"Funny story, actually." Percy unwraps them and offers her one. She takes two and Percy gives her an approving nod. "When we were living with Gabe, he always told my mom that there's no such thing as blue food."

Annabeth frowns. "Uh, blueberries?"

"He always said they were purple. I don't even know where the whole discussion came from but he was adamant about it. So my mom decided to make blue cookies to prove him wrong, and it's kind of become our thing."

Annabeth marvels at him. "Your mom is awesome."

"I know." Percy chews a cookie thoughtfully. "What's your mom like?"

"My mom?" Frankly, Annabeth can't remember her real mom. She was part of the Olympus Circle, so Annabeth never saw her, and when she did it was fleetingly. She died on a mission around last year, right after she had told Annabeth all the secrets of the Inner Ring, but strangely enough Annabeth hadn't been devastated because of how little time they had spent together. Of course, she was sad. Athena was her mom, after all. But it never had an impact on her in any way, because she never knew her mom well enough. "She's cool. She works a lot, though. She's not like your mom. She doesn't bake or anything. She talks on her phone a lot."

Percy stares at her with an indecipherable look on his face. "Are you– okay with that? Do you ever miss her?"

"Sometimes, I guess. She and my dad go on a lot of business trips."

Percy squeezes her hand. "Well. You can share my mom, if you want."

Annabeth gives him a small smile. "Thanks, Percy." Then she clears her throat. "Um, should we start?"

"We shall."

Percy unwraps the pizza slices and gives her four, putting them on a paper plate. The cheese is a bit hard but it still tastes delicious, and Annabeth inhales them almost as fast as Percy does. He stares at her, shocked.

"You can eat," he says, impressed.

"Me and the other seven billion people on this planet."

Percy gives her a look that Annabeth giggles at. "You know what I mean. You devoured that."

"I'm still hungry."

"I have emergency pizza."

"Emergency pizza?"

"Well, I wasn't sure if a) you liked pepperoni pizza, b) you liked pizza or c) if you were one of those people who didn't eat much, no matter what food it was. So in case I was wrong I brought an emergency pizza. And if I was right I could eat this at home. But I was wrong, so now we have another pizza to share."

"I like the way you think. What type is it?"

"Hawaiian."

Annabeth gives Percy a look. "Percy."

"I'm sorry!"

"You like pineapple on pizza?"

"People who like pineapple on pizza are valid."

"You can go be valid on Pluto. People who like pineapple on pizza deserve to be dragged to the pits of hell."

"It's nice!"

Annabeth shakes her head, dismayed. "I was going to demand that I be your girlfriend just by the fact that you thought ahead and brought a spare pizza but now I'm at the point where I'm considering a divorce."

Percy's face goes scarlet at the word 'girlfriend' but Annabeth decides to be nice and not say anything about it. "Maybe I wanted to divorce you because you _don't_ like pineapple on pizza," he says. "Think about it."

"Why would you divorce me for having sense?"

"Because you don't. Pineapple on pizza is one with the gods."

Annabeth rolls her eyes fondly. "We're going to have to agree to differ."

"Fine." Percy gives her a look. "But I still win."

"Whatever."

Percy pulls the second pizza out the picnic basket. "Does this mean you're not going to have any pizza?"

"No, I will. I'll just pull off all the pineapple."

"Can I have them?"

"Be my guest."

They split the second pizza in two. Annabeth picks all her pineapple off and throws them at Percy, laughing when he catches all of them in his mouth. He waggles his eyebrows at her and she giggles, nibbling at the end of her slice.

"I can still taste the pineapple," she complains.

"I'll happily eat your pizza for you."

"Hands off."

They sit in silence for a bit. Percy finishes his pizza first and then moves on to the sandwiches, carefully taking the tinfoil off and scrunching it up in a ball. He timidly takes a bite. "Lois?" he asks softly.

"Hm?"

"Did you–" Percy pauses. He looks like he's going to vomit. "Um. Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"The, uh. Girlfriend thing."

Suddenly, Annabeth isn't sure whose face is redder. Percy can't even look at her in the eye, and Annabeth feels her ears burn.

"Well." She looks down at her pizza. "Yeah, I guess."

Percy takes a sharp intake of breath. "R–really?"

Annabeth nods. The moment feels like it's balanced on the edge of a knife, and she doesn't think she can breathe properly.

"So–" Percy shuffles a bit closer. "If I asked now, would you say yes?"

Annabeth thinks for a second. "Give it a few more dates," she says finally. "I haven't been wooed yet."

"But–" Percy's face falls. "I gave you pizza!"

"One of which had _pineapple_ on it."

"You're not going to be my girlfriend because I gave you pineapple on pizza?"

"Well. Not exactly. It's a significant factor, however."

Percy grumbles. "Outrageous."

"You better up your game."

"Oh, you better watch out. For our next date I'm going to wine and dine the crap out of you. Mark my words, you'll be my girlfriend soon enough. Then finally I'll be able to kiss you."

"You flatter me."

Percy bats his eyelashes at her. "You sure we can't have, like, an experimental kiss now? Just to let me know of what's to come?"

Annabeth laughs. "Down, boy. I need to finish my pizza."

"After your pizza?"

"No!" Annabeth takes a sandwich. "It's like ever since your confession I've flipped your Hormonal Teenage Boy switch on."

"Yes, well." Percy watches her in fascination. "You're not going to eat that, are you?"

"I can still taste the pineapple a little bit. I need to make sure I absolutely don't."

"By putting a sandwich on top of your pizza?"

"Quite right."

Percy looks at her, with something in his eyes that Annabeth can't quite place but still makes her stomach swirl. "You're really something, Lois Watermann."

* * *

 **A/N Hey guys!**

 **I hope all if you liked that. if i'm being honest I think this has been my favourite chapter to write, so i hope it was at least semi-enjoyable for you guys (i wrote this listening to a playlist of the sappiest romance songs I could find so I apologise if i taylor-swifted this chapter too much) (although really who's complaining)**

 **(thewritingmaniac the pipabelia was for you x)**

 **also thank you so so much for 145 reviews! I'm so pleased you all like this fic as much as i do, it means so much to me. and your reviews last chapter were hand over heart probably the nicest things I've ever read. I know I say that every chapter but I appreciate you all so so much and literally every time I get a new comment I religiously read it about twelve times. Your feedback is one of the main reasons why I do this, so thank you all a thousand times over i love you all so so much xxx**

 **Anyway, that's it for this chapter! As always, please tell me what you thought, and feel free to come say hello via pm if you want xD. I'll see you all next week! Bye xxx**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

* * *

" _what if i want to kiss you tomorrow?_ "  
\- what if i, meghan trainor

* * *

Annabeth thinks she might be a little bit in love.

Only a little. She is, after all, seventeen years old, and a spy, and not Lois Watermann with the brown hair and prosthetic nose like Percy thinks she is. But, sitting in his bedroom with the smell of boy surrounding her like a safety blanket and just _Percy_ on his back cackling like a little kid at a story she's telling, it's not hard to pretend.

"No way," he giggles.

Annabeth nods earnestly. "Seriously. I was such an annoying child."

"It's adorable."

"You say that now, but if you knew me when I was seven you'd think otherwise."

Percy shakes his head. "I bet Little Lois was great."

 _She didn't exist_. "She was a pain in the butt. I'm glad I've changed."

Percy rolls his eyes fondly.

Annabeth readjusts herself, crossing her legs. "What was Little Percy like?"

"He was a heartbreaker."

"Of course."

"Don't roll your eyes at me. I was a right ladykiller at five. Got all the girls."

"And by 'girls' you mean the moms?"

Percy digs his toes into her thigh. "Rude."

"That's not a denial."

He sighs. "Unfortunately not. Still, though. S'not a bad thing I had all the moms at my feet. You wouldn't believe the stuff they'd bring for me. I think they knew that Mom was having a bit of a financial crisis so they'd always bring me stuff like cake and candy and there'd always be, like, a coupon tucked away in the tinfoil for Mom. We _lived_ off those coupons, man. Mom would collect them like lottery tickets and use them to buy me clothes and get haircuts."

Annabeth has learnt by this point that Percy doesn't want sympathy. He's just telling a story that he's properly separated himself from, like the Percy and Sally he keeps mentioning are fictional characters. Which Annabeth understands, probably almost as well as he does. She's had her fair share of reports she's had to file out, some of them really, really gruesome. One time she had to testify as a witness for her best friend who had been shot in the chin and through the head right in front of her eyes, and that had probably been the hardest thing she's ever had to do.

Besides. It's not like she, Piper and Thalia don't also hoard coupons like precious jewels. Most of their grocery shopping has been paid for with twenty **5% OFF ANY FOOD WHEN THE TOTAL IS MORE THAN FIFTEEN DOLLARS** that they cut out of newspapers and the backs of McDonald's bags.

"That's so cool," Annabeth tells him. "I wish moms did that to me. Instead I just bossed their children around and screeched at them when they didn't use the building blocks properly."

"That must have made you super popular."

"Oh, totally."

Percy laughs. Annabeth tries not to stare.

Instead, she goes up on her knees and starts looking at Percy's photo wall. It's already increased from the last time she saw it. There's more Jason and Grover, lots and lots of Sally which Percy refuses to be embarrassed about, a few with a boy a couple inches shorter than Percy with coal black hair and eyes in a skull T-shirt and lots with faceless people Annabeth doesn't recognise but assumes are relatives.

She smiles when she sees herself on there. Percy insisted they take a selfie after their first date. Percy has got his eyes crossed and Annabeth is laughing at him, and then there's another one near the bottom of the wall where he's pressing a kiss to her cheek. She remembers that one. It had not been planned in the slightest. He had just turned his head and kissed her cheek, so the look of surprise on Annabeth's face is genuine.

It's a cute picture. Annabeth considers asking him if he can print her out a copy.

"Have you got any Little Percy on here?" she asks.

"A few." Percy shifts next to her, and Annabeth is very hyperaware that he's pressed up next to her in his bedroom. On his bed. Alone.

 _Oh my god Annabeth shut up._

He points. "Here."

Annabeth looks. It's a six-year-old Percy sitting in the bathtub, bubbles on top of his head, beaming at Sally with the front two teeth missing.

Annabeth wants to faint.

"You had chubby cheeks," she says. "Oh my God, that's so cute."

"Shut up."

"No, look at you! Look how _adorable_ you were!"

Percy grumbles darkly. "You're just like Mom. I should have never showed you."

"Chubby cheeks are my favourite."

"I didn't grow out of them until, like, two years ago."

"That's adorable."

"Shh, Lois. I'm a man now. You can't say that anymore."

"Percy, you have dimples."

" _Shhhhh_."

Annabeth laughs at Percy's sulky face. "Aw, don't worry, babe. Being cute isn't a bad thing."

Percy leans closer to her and bats his eyelashes flirtatiously. "Am I cute enough to win a second date?"

Annabeth laughs. "We literally went on a date last week."

Defensively, Percy holds up his hands. "I'm sorry! I just– thought that, you know. We could speed up the process a little."

"Is this so you can kiss me?"

Percy falls back onto his bed and hides his face in his pillow. "Maybe," he mumbles. When Annabeth smacks the back of his leg to reprimand him he rolls over and looks at her pleadingly. He's doing that thing with his eyes, where he makes them big and pouty, a little like a baby seal. The brat _knows_ that the baby seal eyes are her weakness. That by itself probably deserves another smack. "You can't blame me! You're really pretty and you like me _back_ , and this, like, never happens. I want to be able to have at least kissed you once before you figure me out and run away."

Annabeth flushes scarlet. "I'm– wait, ' _figure me out and run away_ '?"

Percy gives her a look. "Duh. There's a reason someone as attractive as myself has gone seventeen years without being kissed before."

"You haven't kissed anyone yet?"

"Which is only more reason why I should kiss _you_."

Annabeth stares at him. " _How_?"

"How should I kiss you?"

"How on earth have you not been kissed yet?"

Percy laughs dryly. "I'm not as desirable as you think I am, Lois."

"What are you _saying_? Of course you are!"

Percy shrugs. "It's no big deal."

"No big deal? Percy, why would you think that?"

Something isn't right. The words settle in Annabeth's stomach the wrong way, like acid licking at the pits of her gut.

She studies the way Percy fidgets under her stare, the way he so nonchalantly spread out over his bed three minutes ago but now is beginning to curl in on himself. She thinks of the way he started to crumple at the football game when Brandon mocked him, the way he started shaking.

"Who told you that, Percy?" she asks coldly, and he flinches.

She's hit the nail on the head.

"No one," he mumbles.

"Percy."

"Just leave it, Lois. It doesn't matter."

"Was it Gabe?"

He stiffens.

"Oh my God."

"It's not a big deal."

Annabeth laughs humourlessly. " _Not a big deal_? Percy–"

"Lois, _please_."

To Annabeth's shock she notices that tears are beginning to well up in Percy's eyes. He looks away from her and tries to blink them back, bringing up his hand to aggressively knuckle them away, but before he can in a moment of sheer desperation Annabeth pushes his hands down away from his eyes and cups his face in her hands. He stares at her, his green eyes wide and betrayed and glittering, and something lurches in Annabeth's heart as she looks down at him, at the way his shoulders begin to shake as he tries to suppress his sobs, and realises that she never, ever wants to see him hurt again.

His pulse jumps beneath her fingertips. She strokes her finger across his cheekbone, traces the telltale scars left from his fourteen-year-old acne along his jaw.

She rests her forehead against his and closes her eyes. "It's okay," she whispers. "It's okay."

"No it's _not_ ," Percy mumbles. "I'm an angsty teenage boy, I'm not meant to show emotion."

Annabeth opens her eyes. She's never been this close to him before. She can count his eyelashes and see the blue lines in his eyes. He's got the lightest dusting of freckles across his nose, and a scar above his eyebrow. It's all perfect.

"Don't try and cover it up, Percy," she says. "You're allowed to be sad."

Percy huffs out a laugh that dissolves into a sob. He closes his eyes and Annabeth lets go of his face and throws her arms around his neck, and even though he is bigger and stronger and broader than her he curls up into a little boy in her lap and cries into her shoulder.

She had always kind of known it was coming, ever since he told her about Gabe.

She waits patiently as she strokes his hair. Her shoulder is becoming damp and under her T-shirt her bra strap starts to itch but she doesn't move, doesn't want to move, because Percy is crying and she knows he needs to get this out.

They sit there for what must feel like hours. Percy feels like a little boy in her arms, and looking around his room, at the wall of photos, as his plain blue bedspread, the blobby parts of his wall where the whitewash didn't set, the Nirvana posters on his cupboard, he still kind of is, in a way.

Annabeth tightens her arms around his shoulders.

"Whatever Gabe told you," she says firmly into his hair, "was complete and utter crap. You're beautiful. You're not perfect, but that's okay, because it's enough for me, and it's enough for your mom and for Jason and for Grover and for _everyone_. You're incredible at swimming. You have to be one of the nicest, most gentlemanly, considerate, chivalrous boys I've ever had the pleasure of going on a date with. You're a damn good cook, too. I adore you. You're wonderful and witty and yes, I'll admit, sometimes your jokes aren't all that awful, and you're handsome and you've got a colourful personality and for some reason you like blue cookies and you want to save the whales and your favourite colour is blue and you wear the same damn shoes over and over again and that's what makes you _you_ , and all Gabe was is a pig who deserves to fall off the end of the Earth and burn in Hell. Okay?"

Percy is quiet for a while. And then slowly, he nods against her shoulder.

"Good."

"Do you mean it?" he whispers.

"Of course."

He hums and sits up, scrubbing at his eyes. He looks a little embarrassed. His eyes are still red and when he speaks his voice cracks but neither mention it. "Um," he says. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay."

"I made your shirt all wet."

"I can wash it."

"I'd personally keep it as a memoir," Percy says. "So I can remember the time Lois Watermann called me funny."

Annabeth laughs disbelievingly. "Oh my God."

"I knew it."

"I said only sometimes."

"Still." He lounges back on the bed and suggestively wiggles his eyebrows. "So."

"So."

"Have you changed your mind about our date?"

"Crikey, Perce."

"You kind of have to agree, just saying. I cried on you."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Yes it does! That's, like, the biggest masculinity sacrifice I could have offered."

"Oh, boo hoo."

"Just go on another date with me."

"Magic word."

Percy sighs. "Just go on another date with me. _Please_."

Annabeth breaks character and laughs. "Of course I'll go on a date with you, you goon. But you're organising it."

"I organised the last date."

"Do you _want_ to be able to kiss me?"

Percy salutes. "Sorry, ma'am! Yes, ma'am!"

The dampness of her shoulder and the rings around Percy's eyes are the only reminders of what happened when Sally calls them for dinner. It's bangers and mash ("and cake for dessert," Sally assures them. "Don't look so heartbroken, Percy") and as Annabeth nibbles at the end of her sausage and Percy progressively moves closer and closer to her throughout the meal until their sides are pressed against each other, and then when they sit down to watch a movie and Annabeth tentatively lays her head on Percy's shoulder, she knows that they'll be okay.

* * *

When Annabeth arrives home, if it isn't been for her reflexes she would have tripped right over the barricade of flour packets that have been stacked like a blockade against the doorframe and fallen flat on her face.

She stares at them.

"Guys?" she calls nervously.

Piper materialises around the kitchen door – or, at least, what Annabeth _assumes_ is Piper. The figure is covered head-to-toe in flour. The only giveaway that it is Piper is the hair and the fact that she's wearing her gross asparagus green socks. "Annabeth!" she squeaks excitedly. "Oh, come and join us!"

Annabeth stares at her in astonishment. "I would ask what all this flour is doing on the floor but it looks like you emptied sixteen more bags over your head."

Piper gives her a look. "We're baking."

Cautiously, Annabeth toes one of the flour bags. "And you need thirty-three bags of flour to do that? Who are you baking for, a country?"

"I've got a fundraiser at school tomorrow," Piper explains. "And I need to bring in cakes, so we decided to do a giant jumbo version so I'd have lots and lots for school but also so we'd be able to feed ourselves for the next four weeks or so. We multiplied the recipe by sixty-seven, I think."

" _Sixty-seven_?"

"I want to make a lot!"

"It's a warzone in here," Thalia calls. "Annabeth, get changed and then get your butt here. I can't bake two hundred cakes and then a bonus seven hundred cookies by myself."

Annabeth blinks. "I'm sorry, seven hundred cookies?"

"We need to ice them, too," Piper tells her cheerfully. "Are you any good at piping?"

Annabeth shakes her head in disbelief. "You're _nuts_."

"It's for a good cause. Go on, get changed. We need help."

Annabeth throws her school bag on the sofa and cautiously picks her way across the floor, making sure not to step on any of the flour bags. Now that she's further in the house, she can also see that there are sugar bags stacked up against the wall by Thalia's bedroom and cartons of eggs scattered all over the floor, which she's pretty sure is some sort of hazard. She strips herself down to her underwear and then gets changed into her oldest, rattiest sweatpants and a T-shirt she thinks belongs to Piper, and then heads into the kitchen.

 _Warzone_ is a complete and utter understatement. There's flour all over the counters, the walls and somehow the ceiling. There's sugar all over the floor and tins of unopened baking soda filling the bin ("it's an excellent storage option," Thalia explains). There's a cracked egg on the floor and water is everywhere. There are two trays of biscuits in the oven and at least another four propped up on the windowsills to cool. Thalia has dough in her hair and all down her shirt, and Piper looks a little like a snowman.

"I'll say it again," Annabeth says. "You guys are nuts."

"My thoughts exactly," Thalia agrees through gritted teeth. She shoves the plate of cookies in Annabeth's face. "Ice these, please."

"How should I do it?"

"I don't care. Give them smiley faces, make them look like pigs, hell, draw genitalia all over them, _I don't give two figs_. There are five boxes of icing sugar under the sink and if you search thoroughly enough you'll find some edible glitter or balls or flakes and some food colouring. Piping bags are on the radiator. Go crazy."

Thalia looks a little wild. Annabeth wonders how long Piper has forced her to bake for.

"Why are the piping bags on the radiator?"

"They accidentally caught fire," Piper explains a little sheepishly, whisking a bowl of cake batter. "They got caught in the oven and went up in flames, so I had to throw them in a bucket of water, which somehow ended up in the freezer, so they're in a giant ice cube on the radiator. They should be done by now, I think."

Annabeth blinks. Suddenly she feels sorry for Sally Jackson, if this is what she has to go through every time she bakes.

"Anyway," Thalia says distractedly. "Why were you home so late?"

"It's six."

"And school ends at _three_."

"I went around to Percy's. And I texted you both, so you can't yell at me."

"I haven't looked at my phone for hours," Thalia says. "Ever since Piper got home we've been baking."

"How was Percy's?" Piper asks.

"It was nice. Sally made us some cake. And did you know that she managed to do it without getting fondant on the light fittings?"

Thalia snorts. "Oh, shut up."

"Did anything sexy go down?" Piper enquires politely.

"No, what the hell?"

"Don't give me that look. It's a genuine question. I'm pleased that your relationship is progressing so nicely, but you haven't even told us about a kiss yet. How slowly does he _move_?"

"It was my decision, actually."

Thalia gasps. "Annabeth Chase, going _slow_?"

"I thought it would be healthy for us. I said we'd go on more dates before we decide anything, so we can see if this whole 'dating' thing is really us, you know?"

"That's smart," Piper says. She stops mixing and leans against the counter. "I wish I had a boyfriend."

"I don't," Thalia says.

Piper ignores her. "Just someone nice, you know? It would be so lovely." She gestures around her sadly. "We'd get this done so much quicker if we had a forth person. Preferably someone male."

"No, it would be weird," Thalia says. "And don't stop mixing, we're on a tight schedule here. We've got at least six hundred and fifty more cookies to go, and we haven't even started putting the cakes in the oven yet. And Annabeth, get a move on. You haven't even started icing yet."

Annabeth pours the entire box of icing sugar into her bowl. Go to the hog, after all. She empties a pitcher of water in after it and starts whisking it with a fork until it becomes thick and pasty.

She pauses after a while. "Did you know that Percy was abused?" she asks quietly.

Thalia freezes. She turns and stares at her. "What?"

Annabeth presses her lips together. "Yeah. He doesn't– talk about it a lot, you know? But today he just– he just broke down."

Piper puts down her whisk. "Oh, Annabeth."

"I felt so _useless_ ," Annabeth says in a small voice. "Like– what do I say? Was I meant to say anything?"

"Was it his stepdad?" Piper asks.

Annabeth nods.

"Step-parents are the most likely causes of parental abuse," she says. She's not boasting. It's just a fact. "Well, second-most. Behind parents whose spouses have died."

"Yeah."

Thalia chews her lip. "Do you want us to make some cookies for him?"

"I can spare a few," Piper says helpfully.

"Yeah. Um, yeah, that would be nice. But they have to be blue."

Thalia nods. "Okay."

* * *

When Percy's cookies come out of the oven, Annabeth ices pink hearts onto them.

* * *

 **A/N so that was a lot more angsty than I thought it would be whoops?**

 **Anyway, I hope you liked that! It's a bit of a filler chapter, I'm really sorry. Next chapter we have some lovely percabeth development which is nice and also actual plot unlike this one. but this needed to happen, you know? Like. Percy has suffered abuse, both physical and verbal, and I think I needed to show the after-affects of it. He's not going to walk away fine, despite him being percy-i-don't-die-jackson and stuff, so yeah. I felt like I had to include that.**

 **Anywho**

 **Thank you all so so so much for your reviews! Literally they mean so so much to me, I love you guys so much. Thank you thank you thank you for leaving the time to leave me such nice comments, reading them is always like the highlight of my day. Also – 160 reviews? what? How did that happen?**

 **Literally you guys are the best thank you so so much xxxx**

 **Also, just to clear things up: percy's dad was not a spy. I actually thought about making it like that, but it just wouldn't work with the plot i have now. Some of you were a little confused because i said the olympus ring was started by three brothers. It's not percy's dad, unfortunately. Percy is just ordinary percy.**

 **(and also pineapple does not belong on pizza the amount of you who said otherwise was utterly bizarre you have no taste buds)**

 **Anyway! Thank you all so so much for reading, I love you all. Please tell me what you thought, and I'll see you guys next Saturday! Byeee xx**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

* * *

" _something like make-believe / living in a movie scene / you know this is the way it's supposed to be_ "  
\- long way home, 5 seconds of summer

* * *

So, like. Prom is a thing.

Annabeth has never really given prom a thought before. It's not because she's against it; quite the contrary, she thinks it would be quite fun. But she just didn't know that it was real. She had always thought it was something that just appeared in books and movies, like all writers had a connection in their minds that allowed them to create an imaginary dance together and allow it to spread through YA novels like a disease instead of a sticky cliché.

But, you know. Apparently not.

"Hey."

Annabeth turns to look at the intruder. It's a cheerleader Annabeth is pretty sure she's seen practicing on the school field, wearing a blouse and a pair of heels so high Annabeth's own feet throb is sympathy. She already has a lot of respect for her. Anyone who can comfortably wear shoes like that without so much as a grimace could probably kill a bear.

Leo's spoon falls out of his mouth. He gapes at her.

The cheerleader passes out flyers across the table. For a cheerleader, she looks incredibly bored. Annabeth wonders where her pep went. "So, as you all know, prom is coming up," she says. "Silena is organising it this year–"

"What happened to Nancy?" Percy interrupts. "She normally does it, doesn't she?"

The cheerleader's lip curls. "Not that it's any business of yours," she snarks, "but Drew put her on the bottom row for the pyramid for the pep rally and she got so angry she quit the prom committee. Good riddance, anyway," she mutters under her breath.

Leo is still staring at her in amazement. Annabeth kicks him under the table and he blinks himself out of his stupor.

"Anyway," the cheerleader says. "The theme is Night At The Opera."

Annabeth blinks. "Your prom theme is Night At The Opera?"

The cheerleader gives her an unimpressed look. "I'm sorry, what was that, Watermann?"

Annabeth recoils. "Nothing. Just – creative idea, you know."

"That's what I thought." The cheerleader flicks her eyes over the flyer she's got on her clipboard. "Normal dress-code applies, but you're allowed to go strapless this year. Humping on the dance floor is not permitted and there'll be teacher supervision on the punch bowl. Any questions?"

"I have one," Leo says dreamily. "Will you go to prom with me?"

The cheerleader looks horrified. "No!" She gives them all a hasty nod and is quick to leave, moving impressively fast across the canteen despite the size of her shoes. Annabeth watches her moodily as she goes. She's got a great bottom.

"Do you even know her name?" Frank asks.

"She was hot."

Hazel scrunches up her nose. "Oh, Leo."

"She _was_! Did you see those legs? What a pair!"

"What's even the big deal?" Annabeth asks. She steals one of Percy's fries and dips it in her milkshake. "It's just prom."

They all turn to stare at her like she's gone crazy.

"Just prom?" Hazel repeats incredulously.

"My dear Lois," Leo says, patting her arm. Annabeth eyeballs his hand until he stops. "You underestimate the importance of prom. It's the night where everyone drinks too much punch, eats sugary biscuits and stands around in a crappy assembly hall with just some paper streamers blue-tacked to the walls."

"Shockingly, that doesn't sound massively appealing."

"It's fun," Hazel says earnestly. "You get to wear pretty dresses and dance to songs that were cool like, three years back. It's wonderful, Lois. You are coming, aren't you?"

"I mean, probably."

"Oh, that's good," she says. She picks up her flyer and hugs it to her chest. "It's going to be simply amazing, Lois, I promise you."

"What are you going to be wearing?" Frank asks her.

"I'm making myself a dress. I think it's going to be quite splendid."

Annabeth doesn't doubt it for a second. Sure, it's most probably going to be made out of curtains and velvet scraps but because it's Hazel it's going to work. Annabeth just knows it.

(There's also the fact that all of her clothes are made out of curtains and velvet scraps and if she can make that work then obviously it'll be no different as a prom dress.)

"What about you, Lois?" Frank asks.

Annabeth looks up. "Hm?"

"You know what you're going to wear?"

"I'm not sure yet. A dress?"

Leo snorts. "Real specific."

"Oh, shut your mouth. You haven't even got a date."

"Speak for yourself."

"I'm going with Percy."

It's out her mouth before she can stop it. She stares at Percy, scandalized. He looks equally terrified.

"Really?" Leo asks, impressed. " _Slay_ , Perce."

Percy nods weakly. "Yeah."

Apologetically, Annabeth rasps her fingers over his kneecap under the table. Percy just squeezes her hand.

Well. Looks like she's got a date to prom.

* * *

Annabeth slams the door shut behind her and then face-plants on the sofa.

Thalia doesn't even flinch. Without looking up from her magazine, she says dryly, "Hello to you too."

"I've had the worst day."

"I don't really want to hear about it."

"Tough." Annabeth rolls over on the sofa so she's staring up at the ceiling. "Come pet me."

Thalia snorts. "No. You have Piper to do that."

"Piper isn't here and I'm sad. Come on, or I'll cry."

Groaning, Thalia closes her magazine and heavily flops down on the sofa next to Annabeth's head. "I hate you."

Annabeth wriggles up so her head is pillowed in Thalia's lap. She noses at Thalia's stomach and grudgingly Thalia brings her hand up to card through Annabeth's dark curls. Annabeth lets out a little contented mewl.

"So," Thalia says. "What's wrong?"

"It's prom season."

"I'm failing to see the problem."

"Shh, I'm getting there." Annabeth adjusts herself and stares at the ceiling. It's full of yellow stains. The previous owners were heavy smokers. Not that they particularly needed to, but they didn't cover their tracks well at all. Annabeth can practically retell their life story from the state of the carpets and the mould growing around the taps. "So, prom's like a big deal, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I think I accidentally forced Percy into being my date."

Thalia's hand momentarily stills in her hair. "Why is that a bad thing? I thought you liked him."

"I do, but what if he doesn't want to go with me?"

"We're not having this conversation again."

"No, it's not like that. Like, I know he likes me. Well. I hope, anyway. But that's beside the point. What if he wanted to go to prom by himself? I just ruined that. I literally told all our friends that we're going together, even though we weren't. Now he has to come with me. He can't back out. He's too nice. I've just ruined everything, Thalia!"

"Hey, calm down," Thalia says. Annabeth closes her eyes. "It's okay, pup."

"No, it's not. You don't understand the extent to what I've done!"

"Annabeth. Just shut up and listen to me for a second."

Annabeth closes her mouth.

"Good. So, because I know you won't listen to anything else, let's look at this scientifically."

"Excuse _you_ –"

"Mouth. Shut."

"Sorry."

Absently, Thalia twirls one of Annabeth's curls. "You and Percy obviously get along well. More than well, actually, seeing as you've gone on like four dates already and all of them have gone spectacularly, if the face you make every time he drops you back here is anything to go by. You're comfortable around him. Comfortable enough to on-the-spot create a lie involving both him and the possibility that it might rope him into a prom date with you. And sure, you now for some reason feel awful about it. But you said whatever you said for a reason, and that reason is because when it first came out of your mouth you were confident with what you were saying. We're spies. We've been learnt to evaluate every single word that we say before we say it."

"But–"

" _Shush_ , Annabeth. Anyway. And also because you're a spy you're going to take people's thoughts and feelings into consideration, better than anyone else in that room. You wouldn't have said what you did if you weren't 100% sure that Percy would be okay with it."

Annabeth sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. "I guess."

"Look, Beth, if you're so worried just ask him."

Annabeth sits bolt upright and stares at her. "Are you positively _insane_?"

"It's not a big deal! Just go, 'hey, about what I said the other day, are you okay with it or do you want to go by yourself'–"

"I can't do that!"

"Yes, you _can_."

Annabeth is just about to retort when her phone goes off. Thalia watches her expectantly as she stretches her upper body as far as it will go without having to physically get off the sofa to reach for her school bag.

"Who is it?" Thalia asks.

"Probably Piper. I swear, if she got herself stuck in another cupboard..." Annabeth doesn't finish her sentence, instead grunting as she hauls her bag across the floor towards her. She lifts it into her lap and fishes around for her phone, pulling it out.

It's not Piper. Not in the slightest.

Panicked, Annabeth's eyes shoot up to meet Thalia's. "It's Percy!" she shrieks.

Thalia gestures. "Answer it!"

"I can't! What if he wants to talk about today?"

"Then suck it up and listen to what he has to say!"

"Are you _nuts_?"

Thalia lunges.

She knocks them both clean off the sofa. Annabeth hits the ground, her shoulder blades clicking uncomfortably against the floorboards, and Thalia straddles her with her phone in hand. Annabeth reaches out to wrestle it out from between her fingers but Thalia pins her arms under her knees and presses answer. Annabeth shakes her head frantically, but Thalia ignores it and stabs the 'loudspeaker' button and holds it in front of Annabeth's face.

Annabeth wants to bite her fingers off.

"Lois!" Percy's voice is crackly with static and filled with relief. "For a second I thought you weren't going to pick up."

Annabeth tries not to let the pain show when she speaks. Thalia is heavy and she's pushing all her weight on Annabeth's forearms through her knees, which surprisingly isn't very comfortable. "Of course I was," she says. "Just had to find my phone."

Thalia holds her hand over her heart. Annabeth glares at her.

"Oh, thank heavens," Percy says, his voice lighthearted, but Annabeth hears the insecurity behind it. "Just checking to make sure you aren't sick of me yet."

"Never."

Thalia watches her expectantly. Annabeth swallows.

"Actually, Perce, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

It's too casual. God knows what he's thinking. That wasn't the right thing to say.

Thalia stares at her in disbelief. _Why did you_ say _that?_

"It's not anything bad," she hurries to say. "I, um." She takes a deep breath and stares up at the ceiling. "It's about prom, actually."

"You found another hotshot date?" His voice is teasing but she knows him too well.

 _Suck it up, Annabeth,_ she thinks. _Suck. It. Up._

"No," she says honestly. "I just wanted to make sure I didn't, like, force you at lunch."

"Oh, that was nothing. I had to save you from Leo, didn't I?"

"Let's say that hypothetically, I was being serious."

"Hypothetically."

"Yes."

Thalia looks like she's lost all hope. She looks at the ceiling desperately, like a cry for help.

(Which, like. Rude.)

"Okay."

"How would you react?"

"How would I react if at lunchtime your sudden promposal was serious?"

"Hypothetically. And yes."

"Hm." Percy sounds like he's thinking. "I'd probably say 'yes'."

Thalia stares at her.

Annabeth lets out a laugh of relief. "Really?"

"We've gone on four dates, Lois. Of course I'd say yes. I'm sure you'll look beautiful."

And. She was not expecting that.

Thalia mimes vomiting. Annabeth just blinks, trying not to let her face burn as red as her shirt.

"Oh," she squeaks. "Um. Thank you."

She tries to disguise the fact that her voice has raised about six octaves with a cough. It doesn't work very well, because Percy laughs over the line and Annabeth kind of wants to hit him in the face but also kiss him, but at the end of the day it's all okay because she's now got a date to prom and it's like, a proper date this time and not a guilt-tripped lunchtime slip-up.

This is incredible. Annabeth feels like she can climb a mountain.

"Um, just for clarification," Percy pipes up nervously, "that wasn't really a hypothetical situation, was it?"

"No."

"So we _are_ going to prom together?"

"Yes, Percy."

"Don't laugh at me! It's a perfectly valid question."

"I can't help it. You're adorable."

Thalia pulls a disgusted face and rolls off of her. Annabeth lets out a sigh now that her ribcage isn't being crushed and she sits up, rubbing her sore elbows. She should be in pain and she is, kind of, but it doesn't even really matter because _she's going to prom with Percy_.

Annabeth clicks the setting off of loudspeaker and presses her phone to her ear. Thalia rolls her eyes and skulks off to the kitchen.

"So," Percy says. "Prom."

"Yeah."

"Do you have any experience with prom?"

Annabeth hums. When she was fourteen she took a class on ballroom dancing back at the Society and she's pretty damn good at it, too, but she doesn't really think that counts. Besides, as she's discovered recently, high school is a whole other ball game and no amount of preparation could possibly even begin to prepare her for prom.

"Not really," she says. "There's dancing."

"I can't dance."

"I'll teach you."

Percy groans. "Oh, you can."

"It's just lots of stepping everywhere."

"You mean stepping on your feet."

"Oh, relax. You'll be fine."

"Yeah, you say that until you go home with bruised feet."

Annabeth rolls her eyes.

"What colour are you wearing?"

"You mean the dress?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not sure yet. Are we meant to coordinate?"

"In an ideal world, yes. However, I only own one tie and it's green."

"Why– why on earth is the only tie you have green?"

"I had to go to my aunt's wedding a while back. She likes green."

"Ah."

"I could Sharpie it black."

Annabeth snorts. "Yeah, no. What shade of green is it?"

"Um. It matches my eyes?"

 _Sea green._

"I'll keep that in mind."

Percy laughs. "I swear it's meant to be the other way around."

"You mean me wearing the tie?"

"No, me basing my tie off of your dress. Not you basing your dress off my tie."

"Well, we're a rather backwards pair, aren't we? I asked you out on our first date, and then I ask you to prom. I see an occurring theme here."

"Oh, shut up. I was going to ask you."

"Uh-huh."

"I was!"

Annabeth is just about to say something until she hears the front door open and sees Piper walk through. Quickly, she says, "Hey, Perce, I'm going to have to go, Tess just got home, but text me, okay? We'll keep in touch."

"Oh, cool. I'll see you soon, Lois."

"You too."

When Annabeth hangs up, Piper is watching her with eyes like a hawk. "You were talking to Percy," she says suspiciously.

"I was."

"Why?"

"Can't I talk to my friend?"

"Please, we all know he's not just your friend." Piper dramatically tosses her school bag to the side and curls up next to Annabeth, stretching her long legs out. "You've gone on like, twenty dates."

"Four."

"Same thing. Are you planning on making it official yet?"

"We're taking it slow."

"Yes, blah blah blah. If it takes you this long to decide whether you want him as a boyfriend I dread the thought of you deciding whether or not to get married."

Annabeth gives her a lazy look. "Ha ha."

"Anyway," Piper says. "What were you guys talking about?"

"That's none of your business."

"Annabeth's going to prom!" Thalia yells from the kitchen.

Annabeth throws her hands up in exasperation. "Are you serious?"

"Really?" Piper squeaks.

"Yeah."

"This is so cool! When is it?"

"May."

"That's so soon!"

"It's like two months away."

"So? You need to start preparing. Have you decided on a dress yet?"

"Piper. I found out prom was happening today."

"That means absolutely nothing. We need to find you a dress pronto." Piper pulls her laptop out of her schoolbag. It's an old thing that barely works with a hard drive from 2003 and it crashes constantly, but it's the one thing Piper took from the Society and she's adamant about keeping it. "Did Percy give you any specific colour?"

"Sea-green."

"Oh, you will look _so_ good in sea-green."

Nervously, Annabeth watches as Piper loads up her Google page. "We're not ordering online, are we?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm checking to see if any of the local stores have any dresses that are worth looking at."

Thalia comes out from the kitchen, holding an apple in one hand. She leans against the doorframe. "I do hope you realise that we're kind of on a budget at the moment, Pipes."

"I'm not stupid. I'm looking at charity shops."

"The chance that you'll find something good there is below zero. Especially if you want a specific colour."

"It's worth a look." She types _prom dresses_ into the search bar. "How is Percy, anyway?"

"He's good."

"How did he ask you out?"

"I was there," Thalia says proudly.

Piper stares at Annabeth, betrayed. " _No_ ," she gasps.

"I asked him over phone," Annabeth says. "That's the only reason Thalia was there."

"You asked him again? Gosh, Percy really isn't doing very well, is he?"

"He called her beautiful."

"Oh my God, Thalia, do you ever shut up?"

"Well, kudos to him," Piper says. She scrolls through a page of dresses. They're all lovely, and quite cheap, too, but none of them are green, and Annabeth really wants a green dress. Not only because she knows that she looks good in sea green. She doesn't want Percy to worry about buying a new tie, because she knows that he and Sally don't have much money. Besides, it'll be nice to match his eyes.

"Who's going with you?" Thalia asks. She drapes herself over the top of the sofa, resting her chin on Annabeth's head. "You know, aside from Percy."

"Actually, I was hoping one of you."

Piper stares at her. " _Why_?"

"Well, I figured you might enjoy it."

Thalia rolls her eyes. "Yeah, right."

Annabeth sighs. "I don't know. Prom is meant to be the best night of your life, right? And– I'm going to be Lois for the entire thing. I won't be able to enjoy myself because all I'll be worrying about is whether my blonde roots are showing through or if my nose is coming off, and I don't want that. Not for my prom. So I thought maybe with one of you I might be able to live a little as Annabeth. Just a little, you know, for obvious reasons. Lois is still going to be constant. But I want Annabeth to be there for the best night of my life too, you know?"

Piper nods. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"I'm sorry," Thalia says.

"S'not your fault."

Piper reaches out and takes her hand. "I'll go with you," she says. "No problem."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, you can't expect me to listen to a speech like that and say no, can you? Good gracious, Annabeth. I _do_ have a soul."

Annabeth shoves at her.

"Also," Piper adds, "I need a new dress. And a boyfriend. Potentially."

"All the boys at my school are idiots," Annabeth says.

"Shame. I was looking forward to meeting my future husband. Still, though. It'll be fun. You'll have to introduce me to everyone, though, including Brandon. But do that subtly so I can just send him death glares across the room. If you introduce him in person I might skewer his hand."

"Yeah, don't do that."

"I'm not going dress shopping with you," Thalia says.

"Yes, you are," Piper tells her. "We need a third opinion."

"No you don't."

"Yes we do. No arguing. Now, Annabeth, which dress do you think will look best on me from these three?"

* * *

 **A/N Hey guys!**

 **Sorry again that this is a filler chapter. Next chapter is prom so it's going to be full of percabeth juiciness (that sounds so weird i'll never say that again) so stay tuned for that woo.**

 **Also, regarding the next update, i'm going to have to do my next update on sunday instead of saturday next week, i'm really sorry. I'm going to be out all weekend (and I mean like all weekend) and i won't have the chance to upload it, I'm really really sorry. Oh well! I hope this was enough until then? eh? kinda? maybe?**

 **Thank you all sosososososoos much for your reviews. We got seventeen reviews last chapter, how nuts is that. You guys are literally the best readers I could have ever dreamed to hope for. Shoutout to my pals rachel and helena for being amazing and also for having no taste buds and liking pineapple on pizza (i swear i will fight you on this as long as i live) and also to Jessica'BlueBell'Potter-JPBBX and MusicalBookworm for being lovely lovely lovely and of course to everyone else (I would individually write you all out except i have no time im so sorry) (when we reaxh two hundred reviews wHICH IS NOT EVEN THAT FAR AWAY OMG i'll do another review-shoutout for everyone and this one is going to be ridiculous watch out)**

 **Anyway! I really hope you enjoyed that! Please tell me what you thought and I'll see you on Sunday! Byeee xxxxx**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

* * *

" _and like the night sticks to the moon / girl, i'm stuck on you_ "  
\- stuck on you, ross lynch

* * *

It's been three minutes and Annabeth has already come to the conclusion that the changing room is much, much too small.

It can barely fit one teenage girl, let alone three, and the six dresses that they've got piled up in the corner ready to try on aren't making things any easier, either. Out of all the dangerous things Annabeth has done, including jumping off the roof of a sixteen-storey building and clinging to the back of a moving bus, she thinks standing in a changing room the size of a box cupboard trying not to suffocate on prom dress silk is by far the deadliest.

Piper spins around. "How do I look?"

Thalia doesn't even look up from her phone. "Hideous," she says. "Next."

Piper puts her hands on her hips. "You haven't even looked."

Thalia looks up boredly. "There. Now I have. And it's still hideous."

Oh yeah, another thing.

Dress shopping is the most excruciating thing Annabeth thinks she's ever done. Forget being tortured or having to sit through a lecture on the invention of the whisk. Looking at dress after dress is making Annabeth want to shove a fork in one of her eyeballs.

After a lot of research, Piper had found a nice little charity shop on a secluded street a half-hour bus-ride from their apartment. It's quaint and pretty, the shelves filled with things like porcelain teapots and china dolls and the furniture patterned with flowers and Victorian women, and surprisingly their dress selection isn't half-bad, either. Everything is cheap and in good condition, and Iris, the owner, had let them use her back room as a changing room, but so far out of the thirty or so dresses Annabeth and Piper have tried on there are none that both fit and look nice.

It's utterly exhausting and Annabeth kind of wants to push her head through a wall.

Piper folds her arms. "Thalia, your negativity is really not appreciated here. This is prom! Everything needs to be perfect!"

"Yes, and in order for that to be achieved I refuse to allow you to walk in looking like an asparagus.

Piper looks down at the dress she's wearing, hurt. "It's _olive_ , not asparagus."

"Either way, you look like a sad flower. Take it off and try something else."

"There is literally nothing else," Annabeth says, rifling through a box near the back. "We've tried almost everything."

"Look harder," Thalia tells her. "Because if not your prom is looking pretty pathetic."

Piper starts shimmying out of her dress. "Oh, Beth, can you pass me that pink one at the back? That's a pretty colour."

Annabeth scrambles around for it and then reappears, holding the hanger it's dangling from. "This would look really nice with your skin," she says. "Try it on."

Piper kicks off the dress. "Here."

Annabeth passes it to her, and Piper starts wriggling into it. There comes a slight problem once the dress is over her head, because suddenly her hands appear at the top and somewhere in the folds of her skirt she cries, "Look at these sleeves! It's like a cat's cradle up here. It's just a bunch of strings."

Thalia cracks up. "Have fun manoeuvring yourself into that."

Annabeth stands up and tries to help her. She's right – the back is a network of strings, all of which have been tangled together like a set of headphones. She stands on a box to try and unravel them.

"This is going to be a nightmare to put on again at prom," Piper says thoughtfully. Her head is still somewhere in the bodice. "We'd have to do my hair and makeup afterwards, otherwise I'd mess it all up trying to get this over my head."

"Can't you step into it?" Thalia asks.

Annabeth tugs at the strings. "Yes, because trying to fit your whole body through _this_ is going to be so easy."

"It'll look nice, I reckon," Piper says. "It'll be like one of those swimming costumes with cross-stitched back that gives you funny tan lines."

"Boys will be falling at your feet," Annabeth promises.

"That is," Thalia adds, "if you can get it on."

"Nonsense, of course I will. How's it looking up there, Beth?"

"Uh, good, I think? I'm nearly finished."

"I'd hope so. My arms are beginning to hurt."

Annabeth works quickly. The strings have been ridiculously knotted together, as if its previous owner had been blind and decided to try and separate them, but Annabeth has had a lot of practice untying knots. She took a whole class on it back at the Society, and was actually one of the best students. She had gotten an A+ in it. (You know, as you do.)

"I'm done," she says. "Thalia, can you pull it down? I need to make sure Piper's arms are in the right places so she doesn't accidentally strangle herself."

Thalia grumbles but stands up. She tugs at the hem and Annabeth directs the strings so they fall around Piper's shoulders where they're meant to. Finally, Piper's head emerges, and she beams, looking a little messy and sweaty but still massively pleased.

"It fits!" she says excitedly.

Thalia steps backwards. Annabeth has to say, Piper looks incredible. The light pink of the fabric works with the brown of her skin and when she twirls in the mirror the skirt flares up like a ballerina. Her eyes reflect the dress and when she stares at her own reflection in the mirror they're wide and almost purple.

Thalia nods, almost impressed. "You clean up well, kid."

"Oh, Piper, you look utterly gorgeous." Annabeth sweeps her up in a hug. "Look at you!"

"You think?" Piper says, obviously very happy. She does another little spin. "Oh, I absolutely love it! And it's my size, too. Who would have thought, right?"

"It's bloody difficult to get on, though," Thalia says. "We're going to need a whole crew to wrestle you into it."

"Should I get it?"

"I think so," Annabeth says. "Take it off so you don't mess it up."

Piper wriggles out of it. Unlike the dress before, she handles it very carefully, putting it back on its hanger and hanging it from the rack along the wall. Annabeth is thrilled she has a dress, but it only increases the sinking feeling in her gut that she's not going to be able to find one.

"Now all we need is one for you," Piper says. "Have you seen one you like?"

"Not really."

"What are your preferences?"

"Um. Green, maybe?"

Thalia eyes her. "Not asparagus green, right?"

"No!"

(Piper looks a little affronted.)

"And, uh, no offense, Beth," Thalia adds, "but, like. Lime green isn't really a good colour on anyone."

"Not lime-green. More– sea green?"

"Ohh." Piper looks up and smirks. "She wants to match Percy's eyes."

"What? N–no I don't!"

Thalia mimes vomiting noises. "You're so gross, Beth."

"I'm not, I swear."

Which is, like. Half true.

Sort of.

"Just– look for a dress, okay?"

Thalia dimples at her. "Whatever you say."

They pull out many more dresses. Some are beautiful, some are utterly disgusting. There are no sea green ones. There are pinks, purples, reds – so many reds – even yellows and oranges, but not a single sea green. Eventually, it gets to the point where Annabeth isn't sure she's ever going to find one. She tells Thalia and Piper that at this point they should just start looking for nice dresses and forget the sea green search, because it's probably never going to happen, and Piper and Thalia share such a look that Annabeth almost pushes them into the dress trunk and locks them in there.

Piper holds up a dress. "How about this one? It's really nice. I think it was accentuate your body really nicely."

It's beautiful. But it's white.

"I'll try it on," Annabeth says. She kicks off her shoes and takes off her shirt, squirming out of her jeans. "Here, pass."

"No, don't pass, hold on." Thalia rootles through the trunk and comes up holding something in her hand. She unfolds it. It's a purple dress. "Put this one instead."

Piper looks quite offended. "What's wrong with the white?"

"Nothing. I think the purple will look nicer."

"Well, that's your opinion. Annabeth, put this dress on."

"Piper," Thalia says firmly.

Piper shuts her mouth.

Thalia turns to Annabeth. "Try this," she says.

Annabeth rolls her eyes and slides into it. It's simple and pretty, with short sleeves and a bodice that clings tightly to her torso. The skirt billows out at her waist, and it comes up to her knees. The colour is gorgeous – it's a deep, dreamy, dark purple that Annabeth knows will look nice with her brown hair. It fits, too, and as Annabeth slides it on she feels all sorts of tingly.

She turns to Piper and Thalia nervously. "Well?"

Piper looks shocked. "Oh my God."

"Look in the mirror, pup," Thalia says softly.

Annabeth turns.

See, look. Annabeth isn't dumb. She knows she's not unattractive. At the Society, she was actually one of the first picks when it came to missions involving seduction. A push-up bra, a short skirt and a tube of red lipstick can go a long way, especially with married men who like the danger and thrill of getting into trouble. All she needs is to bat her eyelids and they'll buy her one, two, three drinks, and that's really all it takes for them to spill about their plans, particularly when they think she's some dumb prostitute. However, that's never been beautiful – that's always been sexy or sultry.

But now, standing in the backroom of a charity shop in downtown New York, wearing a purple dress in mismatching socks with the straps of her sports bra showing through the neck, she's never felt more beautiful.

She blinks, taken aback. "Oh."

"You look amazing," Piper says. "Forget green. Percy's going to pass out when he sees you."

Annabeth looks at her shyly. "Really?"

"Of course."

"Besides," Thalia adds. "Your butt looks fantastic."

Annabeth cranes her neck to look, just out of curiosity. It actually kind of does.

Huh.

"Can you breathe?" Piper asks. "You don't want to have the first dance with the love of your life with your ribs getting crushed. That would be positively tragic."

"It fits perfectly."

"Oh, excellent." Piper gives her a watery smile. "Oh, you look so pretty, Annabeth."

Thalia stares at her. "You're not _crying_ , are you?"

Piper scrubs at her eyes. "No," she says stubbornly.

"Oh my God, you are."

Annabeth strikes a pose. "Can you blame her?"

"Yes, actually. I mean, you look good, but not that good."

"I thought my butt looks fantastic."

"I was only saying that to be nice. Your butt is practically nonexistent."

Annabeth isn't even offended. She knows. But at least you can't see all the cellulite under the fabric. That can hardly be very attractive.

"I'm sorry," Piper sniffles. "It's just– you're growing up so fast."

"I'm older than you."

"Still." Piper rubs her eyes. "I just love you so much."

Annabeth's face softens. "Oh, Piper. I love you too."

"For heaven's sake," Thalia says. "You can't seriously be getting sappy in a changing room."

"Say you love us too," Piper orders.

Thalia pulls a face. "No, ew. I hate you guys."

Annabeth laughs into Piper's neck.

"I'm serious. You mix fabrics and leave your plates all over the house, that's _foul_."

"You say that like you don't."

"I certainly don't mix fabrics."

Piper rolls her eyes and holds out her arms. "Look, do you want to join this hug or are you just going to stand there listing off the reasons why we're terrible human beings?"

Thalia scowls, but moves in anyway. Annabeth squeaks happily and pulls her in, their skulls clacking uncomfortably against each other.

"You smell awful," Thalia complains.

"Excuse _you_. This is expensive perfume."

"You bought that at the dollar store," Annabeth mumbles. "Don't lie."

"Shut your mouth, Chase."

* * *

Two days to go.

Annabeth is sweating a little already.

"I'm really excited for prom," Hazel admits shyly at lunch. She and Annabeth are the first to arrive; Coach Hedge is keeping the boys behind for PE because he caught one of them chewing gum and isn't letting them go until they successfully do thirty push-ups. She sends a silent prayer on Leo's behalf. "It's going to be really cool."

"I know. Who are you going with?"

Hazel ducks her head. "Frank," she mumbles.

Annabeth stares at her. "No way!"

"Yeah. It's– really cool."

"Hazel, that's great! How did he ask?"

"We were walking home together. He was really nervous. I think he was afraid I was going to say no. But I said yes." She smiles excitedly. "I kind of can't wait."

"That's amazing, Hazel. It's going be so cool."

"Are you going with Percy?"

"Yeah."

"What does your dress look like?"

"It's purple."

"Oh, you are going to look amazing in purple. It'll really match your hair and eyes."

Annabeth feels a pain in her chest. She tries to ignore it. "What's yours like, then, Little Miss Dressmaker?"

Hazel's eyes light up. "Oh, it looks really nice! I've got some of my mom's old dresses – she said it's okay – and I cut them up and used them to make a bodice. It's purple, like yours, but it's also black and silver. The fringing around the hem is gold, but I've embroidered little moons and diamonds along the waist. I think it's going to be really cool."

Annabeth doesn't doubt it for a second.

"Hey," she says. "Are you, um, allowed to bring people who don't go to Marino?"

Hazel nods. "I'd think so. Why? I thought you were going with Percy."

"I am, but I wanted my cousin Tess to come as well."

"Tess?" Suddenly, Leo materialises out of nowhere in the seta next to her. He's back to wearing his T-shirt and jeans but his hair is soaked with sweat. He shakes his head like a dog, and Hazel squawks in alarm as beads of persipiration fly everywhere. Annabeth stares at him, disgusted. "She isn't the scary one who kicked me out, is she?"

"No, that's– Agatha." Annabeth catches herself just in time. "Why on earth do you look like you just went swimming?"

"Hedge, man." Leo wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. "He's crazy. Wait until the smell hits."

"Oh, gross." Annabeth moves down a seat. "Why didn't you _shower_?"

"The other guys got there before me. And they're people like Beckendorf and Michael, and they're _massive_. I couldn't fight them for it! They'd send me flying."

Hazel furrows her brow. "Why can't you just take turns?"

"Because, my dear Hazel, the boys' locker room is something akin to a lion pride made up of just lions. We all want to be the biggest and the best, but unfortunately woe is me and the Fates decided that it would just be too much for me to be blessed in the looks, sense of humour _and_ athleticism departments so they left me as scrawny and defenseless against the mountains that are Charles Beckendorf and Michael Kahale. Even Frank is better than I am."

"Well, Frank's built like a sumo-wrestler. That's kind of expected."

"Speaking of," Hazel says, "where is Frank? I thought you both had Hedge."

Annabeth wiggles her eyebrows across the table at her, just because she can. If Hazel could have blushed, she would have.

"Showers, like I said," Leo says. "He and Percy and Jason. They're big and strong and can defend themselves."

"Oh."

"But anyway." Leo turns to Annabeth and steals a fry. "What were you saying about your cousin?"

"Oh. I want her to come to prom. I was just asking if I could."

"I'm pretty sure you can. Have I met her?"

 _Yes. You were best friends with her before._

"Uh, briefly. Before Agatha arrived, she said hello."

"Oh! Yeah, I remember. She's hot."

Annabeth gives him a look. " _No_ , Leo."

"Come on! I'm sure she'd like me."

The irony.

"I'm not letting you hit on my cousin."

Leo sighs. "See, this is why I am dateless. Because you keep sabotaging all my opportunities."

"She's my cousin, Leo."

"That means utterly nothing. If she likes me back our love should be allowed to blossom."

"She won't like you back."

"You don't know that."

"She prefers blondes."

She doesn't. Annabeth doesn't know why she said that.

Leo groans. "Aw, dammit. Why is Brandon becoming so popular?"

"Brandon's a jerk," Hazel says harshly. It's probably the rudest thing she's said all year. "He doesn't deserve to get popular."

"I've warned her against Brandon," Annabeth assures her. "She knows to stay away."

"Good. If she's anything like you I'm sure she's beautiful and wonderful and she does not deserve to get creeped on by anyone like Brandon."

Annabeth stares at her, touched. "Thank you," she says honestly.

Hazel waves her hand dismissively. "It's okay," she says. "You only get your capital-P prom once, right? It has to be good." She takes Annabeth's hand over the table. "We're not going to let any jerks like Brandon ruin it for us."

Annabeth squeezes her hand.

Sometimes she really, really loves Hazel.

* * *

It's prom and Annabeth is _not_ prepared. She thinks she's going to throw up.

"Please don't," Thalia says. "We spent a good twenty dollars on this dress."

"That isn't helping, Thalia," Annabeth says tightly.

"I'm just being honest. Prom is in, like. Two hours. We have no time to go and find another dress you look this good in."

Piper pads out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped up in a towel. She's wearing one of Thalia's ratty Green Day shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, and she's holding a tube of lipstick. "What's wrong?" she asks worriedly. She catches sight of Annabeth's face. "Oh, Beth, are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick."

"I _feel_ like I'm going to be sick."

Piper sits next to her on the sofa and takes one of her hands. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know." Annabeth scrubs at her eyes with a fist. "I just–" She stops and stares up at the ceiling. "You don't think I should tell Percy, do you?"

Thalia's face creases with concern. "You mean– about Annabeth?"

Wordlessly, Annabeth nods, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth.

Thalia sighs. "You know you can't."

"I know. And I'm not even sure I want to. But – what if tonight goes really well?"

Piper tucks one of her curls behind her ears. "What do you mean, Beth?"

"Like. What if it goes well? What if we kiss? What if he asks me to be his girlfriend and what if I say yes? Then we're dating. Officially. And who knows what could happen then? I'm living a lie. Who knows what's going to happen. We're living off a bomb fuse and we have no idea how long it is. We might have to pack our bags tonight, or we might have to pack our bags in ten years. And Percy's going to be next to me the entire time, calling me Lois, falling in love with Lois, and if–... and if by some chance we _don't_ have to run out of the city, and we _do_ end up staying here for the rest for our lives..." She sighs. "We could get married. We could have _children_. And I'm going to be Lois forever. I can't be Lois forever. I don't even know if I want to be Lois now. It's not me. I've fallen in love with Percy but Percy's fallen in love with Lois, and I just– I don't know. Maybe I'm being stupid. I just. It's hard, you know?"

They're both quiet for a long time. Piper looks like she's about to cry.

Then, surprisingly, Thalia speaks up.

"Don't think about that tonight," she says firmly. "Tonight is not about Lois or Annabeth. It's about you and it's about Percy, and it's about your _prom_. It's going to be so much fun, Annabeth. You're going to drink far too much punch and probably ruin your dress and you might end up kissing Percy, and you know what, maybe he _will_ ask you to be his girlfriend. And if he does, you're going to say yes. Why? Because you _like_ that boy. You like him a lot. And you're right. We might have to leave any second now. But for now, you're going to be happy that you've got this opportunity to be a teenager, okay? Enjoy it. Enjoy prom. Enjoy _Percy_. All right?"

Annabeth sniffles. "O–okay."

Thalia nods. "Okay. Now get changed, I need to do your makeup."

Annabeth swipes her fingers under her eyes and stands up. She heads to the bedroom to put on her dress – but she pauses by the doorway briefly.

"That was really sweet," Piper says softly. "What you said to Annabeth."

"She needed to hear it."

"I feel kind of bad for her."

"So do I. But she's going to have fun. Make sure of it, okay?"

"I promise."

"Good."

Piper sniffles. "And you say don't love us."

"Shut up, McLean."

Annabeth walks to her bedroom with a smile on her face. Nine months ago, she listened in to a conversation between Piper and Thalia and it was _crappy_. Now? It's beautiful.

She kind of loves her friends.

She quickly gets changed into her dress. It's as wonderful as it was when she tried it on, and she loves the way it feels. She feels so amazing, like a princess, although she'd never, ever admit that aloud. She twirls a little in the mirror in their bedroom. She can only really see herself from the waist down, but she's never been more thrilled.

"Are you done yet, Chase?" Thalia calls. "You're taking your sweet time."

"It's prom, leave me alone."

"I'm doing your makeup, so no, I won't. Hurry the hell up."

Annabeth rolls her eyes.

She heads into the living room in her dress with an old sweatshirt pulled over her torso on top, so she won't accidentally spill anything onto it. She's left her legs bare – she reckons she can suffer against the cold for them; it's a small sacrifice – and her bare feet make soft noises against the floorboards as she enters. Piper is sitting on the sofa with a tray of biscuits next to her and a mirror in front of her, lining her eyes in eyeliner. She brightens when Annabeth enters.

"You look great," she says.

"No, you don't," Thalia says, walking in. "Not until I've finished with you, anyway."

Annabeth obediently sits on the sofa next to her. Piper offers her a biscuit without taking her eyes away from the mirror, and Annabeth takes two, pushing one in her mouth. "Just saying," she says through a mouthful of shortbread, "I don't want to look like a My Chemical Romance fan from 2007. I want to romance Percy, not scare him off."

Thalia scoffs. "Relax. You'd never be able to pull that off."

"Rude. I think I could do a very good job."

"Well, either way, it's your lucky day. I watched lots of Zoella for this."

"I appreciate your efforts."

"No you don't. No one ever appreciates me in this house."

"That' because you don't deserve it," Piper says, tugging at her eyelid. She draws along it with her eyeliner pencil and then sits back, examining her work. "You don't do anything worth appreciating."

"Hey. I bought Annabeth blood sachets."

"Which got me sent home and scared the hell out of my friends."

"Details." Thalia uncaps her eyeliner. "Lean forward for me, please – and for God's sake if you spill biscuit crumbs down your dress I will eat you alive."

Annabeth sits still as Thalia outlines her eyes, and then smears her eyelids with something shimmery and dark. "It matches your dress," Thalia had assured her, when she saw Annabeth's wary glance, but Annabeth still isn't sold. Despite this, she lets Thalia dab it on, and then suddenly flinches away when she feels her fingertip along the top of her cheekbone.

"What?" she demands.

Thalia holds up a jar of glitter. "I'm making you sparkly."

"I'm not a Twilight vampire, thank you _very_ much."

Piper snorts.

"It'll look cool. Trust me."

Annabeth sighs. "Go on, then. But if I look bad you're taking it off."

"Deal."

Somewhere along Thalia dabbing glitter along her cheekbones and then uncapping a dark lipstick and asking her to open her mouth, Piper gets up and puts on some music. It's an odd playlist, something Annabeth thinks the three of them might have created at two am when they were all high off chocolate milk and nail polish fumes, because it's a terrible mess of Beyoncé and Bring Me The Horizon. Piper seems happy enough, dancing along in her socks with a lollipop in her mouth, not at all deterred when dance-pop fades abruptly into screamo. She's done her makeup and is entertaining herself with eating candy until it's time for them to leave. Annabeth has to admire her ability to eat and not smudge lipstick everywhere.

"Am I nearly done?" she asks, slightly impatient.

"Nearly," Thalia. "Wait, no, stop _moving_. Annabeth, I swear, I'll draw all over your face if you don't."

" _You're_ a face," Annabeth mumbles back stupidly.

Thalia takes another two minutes, and then finally Annabeth is allowed her face back. Piper lets out a whistle when she sees it, and Annabeth takes her hand mirror to peer at Thalia's handiwork in it. She has to admit, she's impressed. She looks really nice. The eyeshadow looks beautiful with the darkness of her dress, and even the glitter doesn't look that bad. She decides she quite likes the glitter.

Huh. Maybe Edward Cullen knew what he was doing, after all.

"You look gorgeous, Beth," Piper says around her lollipop. "I think Percy might just die when he sees you."

"Let's hope not. I need him as a date."

"What are you doing with your hair?" Thalia asks.

Annabeth turns her head in the mirror. "I think I might just leave it down."

"It looks nice," Piper says. "I've braided my hair."

"Yes, I can see that. You look great, by the way."

"Thanks, bae." Piper checks her phone. "We've got half an hour. Shoes and then we'll go."

Annabeth is too taken aback by the fact that Piper had actually called her 'bae' then to realise what she had said. "What, shoes?"

Piper stares at her. "Uh, yes? What, did you think we were going in our slippers?"

Annabeth is horrified. "I haven't even _thought_ about those," she says in a hushed voice.

"Well, you're going to have to," Piper says unsympathetically. "And be snappy, we need to get going soon."  
Annabeth stares at her two options: her Converse or her heels. There are pros and cons to both. The Converse are probably the comfiest thing she owns; however, they look like they've been put through a paper shredder. The heels look much more presentable and Annabeth can more or less navigate her way around in them, but these ones in particular have a buckle over her ankle, and whenever she wears them she always ends up bleeding.

"I say the Converse," Piper says. "I mean, I wouldn't normally, because this is prom, and you only have prom once, but I'm going to be there with you and I don't want you whining my ears off about how much your feet hurt."

Thalia recoils, disgusted. "You can't wear _sneakers_ to prom!"

"I jolly well can," Annabeth says. "And why do you care, anyway?"

"Because it's prom," Thalia insists, as if that makes any more sense. "Besides, your legs and your butt look fantastic when you wear heels."

"My butt is nonexistent, remember?"

"Yes, well, when you wear heels it makes it _less_ nonexistent."

"Come on, Beth," Piper says. "We need to head off soon."

Annabeth frowns at them – and then finally, reaches towards her Converse. Thalia grunts, mortified. Annabeth slips her feet into them and then stands up, taking her sweater off. She beams at Piper nervously.

"Should we?" she asks, slightly breathlessly.

Piper laughs and offers her arm. "We shall."

* * *

Prom is in full swing when they arrive.

They're a few minutes late. Annabeth is horrified when she checks the time, but Piper assures her that it's perfectly normal and that they'll be fashionably late. "It's what all the celebrities do," she says. "And despite the fact that neither of us are nowhere near celebrity-status we can channel our inner Taylor Swift. Don't worry at all, Lois."

The school gym has been decked out like nobody's business. The school band is on stage, working their way through a series of songs. There are spotlights rigged up to the ceiling, so the floor is dark but riddled with blue light, and there are tables full of biscuits and fruit squash lining the walls. There are some half-hearted streamers taped to the walls but Annabeth doesn't even give them a second thought. It's not incredible, and certainly not the most expensive dance she's been to, but she thinks it might be her favourite. She _loves_ it.

"Lois!"

It's Hazel. She's heading towards them. She looks stunning. Her hair has been left out in a cinnamon-coloured cloud around her head, and sure enough, her dress is one of the best Annabeth has seen so far. She can see some scraps of fabric from shirts Hazel has worn this year, but she doesn't even care. It looks amazing.

"Hazel!" Annabeth gives her a hug. "You look incredible!"

"Thank you! And so do you, look at you!" Hazel looks over Annabeth's shoulder and catches sight of Piper. "You must be Tess, right? You're Lois's cousin?"

Piper nods. "That's me."

Hazel sweeps her into a hug. Piper looks shocked, but returns it. "You're so pretty," Hazel tells her honestly, once she's pulled back. "I love your hair."

"Thank you! I love yours too. And your dress is insane. Did you make it yourself?"

"Yes, actually!" Hazel launches into a speech about how she made it, and Piper is _into_ it. Annabeth understands absolutely nothing so she sidles away awkwardly, leaving them to their own devices. She catches sight of Leo hovering by the punch bowl, so she starts heading over.

"Leo!" she calls.

Leo sees her and looks shocked. "Crikey, Lois, you look amazing."

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself."

"You think? I'm trying to hit up the cheerleaders. Need to look my best, you know?"

Annabeth laughs and leans her hip against the table. "Which one this time?"

"She's called Calypso."

"Oh, so you know her name this time?"

"Shut up, Lois."

"Sorry. Tell me about her."

Leo sighs happily. "She's really pretty, Lois. She's got long hair and she's wearing a white dress tonight and she likes plants and she's just amazing."

Annabeth smiles. "It sounds like you really like her."

"She laughs at my jokes."

"That's the deal-breaker right there."

Leo laughs.

Annabeth looks at the dance floor. "Have you thought about asking her to dance yet?"

"Yeah. Reckon she'd say no, though."

"Don't be ridiculous. She'd say yes."

Leo looks at her hopefully. "You think?"

"Absolutely. If she laughs at your jokes she obviously likes you. No offense Leo, but your jokes aren't always that great."

"Screw off."

Annabeth laughs. "Think about it, Leo. She'll probably say yes."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

And that's when she spots Percy.

He's walking in with Grover and Jason. All three of them are in some variation of a tux, Grover wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a blazer over a SAVE THE THREES T-shirt, Jason in dress pants, a blue-up and a jacket, and Percy a pair of jeans, a blazer and his Converse. He's wearing his green tie and his hands are buried deep in his pockets and he looks rather aggressively awkward, but he looks absolutely incredible and Annabeth can't take her eyes off of him.

"Lois?" Leo asks. Then he sees Percy. "Oh, right, of course. You've spotted your man. Don't let me interrupt." He's wearing a smirk that on any other occasional Annabeth would want to smack off but she's too busy gawking she doesn't even _care_.

Percy catches sight of her after a few seconds of uncomfortable dithering. When he sees her, his jaw drops. For a few seconds, it feels like they're in a little bubble, just the two of them, staring at each other like they're in a rom-com, until Leo nudges her forward. "Go on, then," he says. "Talk to him."

Annabeth shakes herself out of her reverie and starts heading over. Percy still looks shocked, but he manages a weak smile. When she arrives in front of him, he says, "Lois, you look– _wow_."

Annabeth laughs. "Thanks. You look great too."

"You're gorgeous."

"Why thank you. Sorry I couldn't match your tie."

"Oh, who cares. Purple is a great colour on you."

"Thank you."

Percy shoves his hands in his pockets. "Um. You wouldn't want to, uh–"

"Percy, my man!"

Whatever Percy is about to say gets cut off by Leo, who evaporates out of seemingly nowhere. He swings between them like a monkey, throwing an arm around Percy's shoulders and throwing a cheeky look at Annabeth. Annabeth pulls a hideous face back at him.

"Hey, Leo," Percy says cheerfully enough.

"How you doing, Perce?"

"Uh, good."

"Prom looking promising?"

"I'd say so."

"Excellent." He claps Percy on the back. "You want to dance?"

Annabeth laughs. "What happened to the cheerleader?"

"She can wait. I've discovered a new attraction towards sexy green-eyed swimmers." Leo wiggles his eyebrows at Percy, who bursts out laughing. "I'll give him back to you. Just let me have this one song."

"Take him," Annabeth says. "I'll go and steal your girl."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Lois!" Annabeth turns around to see Piper waving at her. "Come on, we're dancing."

Annabeth turns back. "You gentlemen have fun. I'm going to go hang out with Tess and Hazel."

"Oh, Tess! You must introduce me later."

"I will. You two go nuts."

Percy winks at her as Leo leads him away.

Annabeth absolutely adores prom. It's everything she could have hoped for and more. Leo takes Percy for a lot more than one song – in fact, almost half of the playlist – but Annabeth is having too much fun to really mind. Piper absolutely _adores_ Hazel, which Annabeth is incredibly relieved to hear, and she doesn't think she's ever been so happy. Hazel is bobbing up and down on her right and Piper is jumping around like a jitterbug on her right, and Annabeth is gorging herself on sugary biscuits and orange squash and even though they both taste like cardboard and the songs are old and overplayed she's having the time of her life.

Somewhere near the twentieth song, she excuses herself to go and get some water. She pushes herself out of the throng of dancing teenagers (whatever that cheerleader said about no humping had apparently fallen on deaf ears) to one of the tables – and then almost trips over her own feet when she sees someone has already beaten her to it.

Brandon Lawrence's lip curls as she heads towards him.

"Watermann," he says.

Annabeth uncomfortably nods her head. "Uh, hi."

She pours herself a cup of water and leans against the table, watching the dance floor writhe with life. There's a good metre between her and Brandon Lawrence and yet she's never felt more cornered in her life.

"Brandon." She puts down her cup. "I just– I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"For what? Humiliating me?"

"Well. Yeah."

He snorts. "A bit late, don't you think?"

"I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does, though. But, um. I'd also like an apology, too. If that's okay."

He glares at her. "What on earth do _I_ have to apologise for?"

"Uh, talking crap about my boyfriend? Locking me in a _closet_ for six hours?"

Well. Twenty minutes.

Same thing.

"You deserved that."

"Yeah, well, you also deserved me pouring spaghetti over your head!"

Brandon scoffs. "Just leave it, Watermann."

He stalks away. Annabeth glares half-heartedly at his retreating back.

She feels a presence settle next to her. It's Piper.

"Was that Brandon?" she asks softly.

Annabeth nods. "Yeah."

"He's ugly."

Annabeth nods. "Yeah. Hey, how's prom going so far?"

Piper beams. "Oh, it's great. I love it."

"I know, right? It's wonderful."

Piper nods, and then leans closer. "Uh, also. Just for clarification. Who exactly is that?" She points to where Percy is dancing. But she's not pointing at Percy.

Annabeth smirks. "Why?"

"Oh." Piper shrugs far too nonchalantly for it to not be something. "Just curious."

"Right." Annabeth tries to suppress her smile. "That's Jason."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

They stand there in silence for a bit.

"He's single, you know."

"Huh."

"Mm."

"He's hot."

"He's a football player."

"Oh _my_. Is he nice?"

"Yeah."

"Gosh."

"You should say hi."

"I could never."

"I believe in you."

"I don't."

"Just go up to him."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I heard he likes brunettes."

"Oh, shut up." Piper bounces on the balls of her feet. "Okay. I'm going to go."

"You can do this."

"I can."

"Yes. Go and seduce him."

Piper flashes her a nervous smile and sets off. Annabeth pats her bottom for good luck.

The song ends, and the next one starts – but instead of this one being upbeat and fun, it's soft and slow. Ed Sheeran starts crooning in the background, and Annabeth can see people begin to sway along. The pulse of the gym begins to settle to a heartbeat, and Annabeth watches as Percy starts heading over to her.

Something leaps in her chest.

"Hey," he says when he reaches her.

"Hey," she says back.

"I met Tess properly."

"Is she doing well?"

"Oh, fantastic. Jason's already halfway in love."

"Good." Annabeth watches her fondly over his shoulder. "She deserves it."

"He's a good guy."

"His spine better hope so."

Percy laughs. It twinkles in the heat, and Annabeth feels her heart throb.

"So," he says. "Um. I wanted to know if you'd like to dance?"

Annabeth smiles. "Finally."

"I had to do it eventually. I couldn't let you ask me on the first date and then prom and face the shame of also being asked to dance."

"So this was all in the name of your masculinity."

"Absolutely. Also because I like you a lot."

Annabeth giggles.

Percy offers his hand. "M'lady?"

Annabeth accepts it. "Kind sir."

It's all wrong. They're at the back of the gym, near the drinks table. Everyone else is on the dance floor, but Annabeth likes it like this. It's private, secluded. It's them and only them and as she stares into his beautiful, beautiful eyes she feels herself slowly fall in love.

Percy shuffles his feet. "I don't know how."

"To dance?"

He nods.

"I'll teach you. It's real easy, promise."

"I'll take your word."

"Good." Annabeth smiles at him. "Put your hands on my waist."

Uncertainly, Percy rests his hands on her waist. They're large and soft, and he's so gentle and unsure. Annabeth falls deeper in love.

"Good," she says again. "Now. I'm going to put mine on your shoulders. Is that okay?"

He nods.

"And that's it."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh. Okay." Percy smiles at her. "Okay."

Ed Sheeran sings about the Tenerife Sea as they start to sway. In a moment of bravery, Annabeth pushes forward and rests her head against Percy's chest. He lets out a squeak of surprise, but he settles his arms gently around her waist. She listens to his heartbeat and they move together. It's soft and gentle and there's no space between them, and Annabeth closes her eyes. She feels euphoric, _infinite_. It's beautiful. She doesn't know what this feeling is but it's wonderful and she wants to fly in it for the rest of the life.

She thinks it might be love.

"Lois?" he asks softly.

Annabeth looks up.

"Can– can I kiss you?"

Her breath hitches. "Yeah."

And for the first time, their lips touch.

(It's kind of perfect.)

* * *

 **A/N Hey guys! Sorry this is so late, but this is also almost seven thousand words (holy hell i wrote for like five hours straight my brain is goo) so i hope that makes up for it?**

 **I'm actually really pleased with the way this turned out. I hope you all like it. Also pERCABETH KISS WOOP and jasper which i wanted to be a surprise but all of you guessed it anyway so whatevs amirite (i'd listen to Only Us from Dear Evan Hansen to the end percabeth bit i just feel like it's a good song that fits the mood yanno) Also for those who were confused about charity shops - basically, they're shops which people donate things to that get resold dirt cheap. most of them time the stuff is kind of terrible but my mum has walked out on multiple occasions with a designer dress she bought for a fiver so i mean**

 **ALSO thank you so so mcuh for your comments. we're nearly at two hundred isn't that NUTS. you all are the reason i keep uploading chapters i love you guys so so much**

 **and that's all i have for today! if there are any mistakes please tell me (i haven't proofread whoops) and i'll see you all next saturday! bye xx**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

* * *

" _it's just the calm before the storm_ " _  
_\- blood like gasoline, against the current

* * *

"So, what was it like?" Piper asks eagerly.

Annabeth goes pink. "I'm not saying."

"Oh, come on, Beth! You two looked so adorable. Definitely not like the other couples I saw around who were practically eating each other. You need to give me details."

She and Piper have been curled up on the sofa together for a little over an hour. It's hot and they're both sweaty and Annabeth hasn't brushed her teeth but it's kind of perfect and Annabeth loves it. Definitely how she wanted to spend her post-prom bliss.

"I don't know." Annabeth shrugs, but she feels the butterflies swarm in her stomach. She remembers how beautiful it was, how soft and gentle was with her, and she remembers when it ended how they leaned back and looked at each other and then just laughed and she doesn't think she had ever been happier, especially when Percy went in for a second kiss and she was giggling too much to do anything except smile against his mouth. "It was – perfect."

Piper watches her fondly. "You really love him, huh?"

"Love?" Annabeth blinks. "No, I mean. I like him. Love is a bit– strong."

Piper rolls her eyes. "Puh-lease. You two have been after each other for months. You're in love with him, Beth."

"No I'm not."

"I see the way you look at him, remember?" Piper's voice softens. "I watched you two kiss. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so in love."

"Yeah."

"Besides," Piper adds. "Look at me in the eyes and tell me it wasn't the best moment of your life."

Annabeth laughs.

The moment is ruined when the kitchen door swings open and Thalia struts in, dressed like she's about to go out in black jeans and a Green Day shirt. Annabeth self-consciously looks down at Piper and herself. They're both still in pajama bottoms and sweatshirts Annabeth had stolen from her school's lost property because they were so soft. They're tangled together on the sofa like sleepy kittens and Thalia is standing there in her black outfit looking like she's about to go terrorize a kids' park and smoke cigarettes on the jungle gym with her other punk friends.

"Neither of you are planning anything today, are you?" she asks.

Piper looks at her with hooded eyes. "I was planning on watching the entirety of Hannah Montana, why?"

"Well." Thalia sits on the sofa next to them. "You can't anymore."

Piper blinks. "And why ever not?"

"Because today we're training."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "I think we have time for some TV."

"Not at all. We haven't trained in a very long time and we're getting lazy. We need to sharpen our senses."

Piper snorts. "Then what propose you say we do, Leader Grace? Sit around a scented candle and guess what flavour it is?"

Thalia gives her a look. "No. Today we're doing some shooting."

That catches Annabeth's attention. She sits up and stares. "What?"

"Shooting."

"With– guns?"

" _No_ , Annabeth, we're going to be shooting with cameras. Yes of _course_ with guns."

Annabeth looks around worriedly. "Not– _here_ , right?"

"Where else would we do it?"

Piper gives her a look. "Uh, not in our _apartment_? Anyone could hear us! Or we could get kicked out for accidentally killing someone!"

Thalia sighs, as if they're both little kids that she's been forced to look after. Annabeth actually quite resents the accusation and she frowns petulantly. "You two are positively ridiculous. You underestimate me. When you were at school I went around soundproofing the walls."

Annabeth blinks. "Soundproofing the walls."

"Quite right. I bought some soundproofing from a hardware store down the road and told them I'm building a music studio. Then I stripped the walls and put the soundproofing in. It's really quite simple."

"You– are you positively mad?"

"No, I'm just smart." Thalia swipes a banana from the counter and starts peeling it. "Anyway. I also took a few guns from the Society– _relax_ , Piper, they're not real. They're designed for practice. They're built like real ones except the pellets are made out of Styrofoam."

"Reassuring."

"Don't sass me. They can still hurt a bit, though, so be careful. I think they can break bones. But they won't kill you."

Piper gawps. " _Break bones_?"

"You're acting like you've never held a proper gun before."

"I know, but– but that's at a professional gun range where we have moving targets and security cameras absolutely everywhere, not in an apartment surrounded by teenage girls where we have to shoot at some flimsy cardboard."

Annabeth stretches. "To be fair, it can't be any more ridiculous than the time me and Thalia threw knives at the walls."

Piper glares at her. "Oh yeah. I remember that."

"If you're so worried about getting hurt just don't shoot it at anyone," Thalia says. "It's not rocket science."

Piper frowns. "This still can't be safe."

"We're spies. _Unsafe_ is, like, our motto," Annabeth says.

Thalia rolls her eyes. "Look, are we going to keep talking about the safety of carrying gun or are we going to start actually shooting some stuff?" She doesn't even wait for an answer, instead opting for rootling around in her bag and producing three sleek, black guns with red duct tape around the barrel. "Heads-up." She throws one at Annabeth and one at Piper. Annabeth catches hers with ease.

"Oh, I've used one of these before," she says.

"Good, I'd be rather worried if you hadn't."

"Have they been loaded?" Piper asks.

"Yeah. There are more bullets in my purse if you need 'em." Thalia twirls hers around her finger. Annabeth wishes she could do that. Unfortunately, she always ends up either enthusiastically throwing it off her finger and smashing a window or pulling the trigger, neither of which are particularly great. "Right. Annabeth, you're up first."

"Try not to kill anyone," Piper says unhelpfully.

Annabeth ignores her, and raises her gun to eye level. The target is a piece of laminated cardboard painted like a target and honestly Annabeth is a little afraid that despite the bullet being made out of Styrofoam she's going to accidentally blast the wall into pieces, but she clicks the bullet into the chamber nonetheless and positions herself.

"There we go," Thalia encourages. "Take your time. Relax your shoulders."

"Shut up, Thalia. I know how to fire a gun."

"Your technique would beg to differ. It's absolutely horrendous."

"Oh, do be quiet."

Annabeth takes a deep breath and pulls the trigger.

The bullet fires out like a whippet. It hits the target and blasts it off the top of the TV, where it's been balanced, although thankfully it doesn't appear to have done any immediate damage to the wall. Annabeth smirks, quite proud of herself.

"I'd take that smile off of your face," Piper says. "You didn't get bullseye."

Annabeth's cheer falters. "What?"

Thalia picks up the target and snorts. "Geez, Chase, were you doing this with your eyes closed?"

Annabeth frowns, hurt. "Hey."

"Your aim is awful. You were a good three inches off of the centre."

"I was nervous!"

"Well, stop being nervous. It's a gun. Get your act together."

Annabeth raises her eyebrows in disbelief. "I'm sorry?"

"You've got a serial killer after you, Beth. Believe it or not, I didn't soundproof the walls and swipe three guns from the Society for the fun of it. You're in danger. You could get killed any second now, and if you don't even know how to shoot a gun correctly you're going to be dead in a few seconds."

Annabeth's jaw tightens. She knows Thalia's right, but she doesn't want to admit it. Instead, she straightens her shoulders and raises her gun. "Get the target back up," she says quietly.

Piper scurries and props the target back on top of the TV. Thalia was right; she was embarrassingly far off the centre. She knows she can do better. She's been handling guns since she could walk. All this time spent neglecting training has left her sloppy.

She fires.

Thalia nods. "Better. But still not great."

"Oh, come on."

"Just saying."

"Look," Piper says. "If you can't get them with accuracy, you need to use the element of surprise."

Annabeth frowns. "What?"

"Yeah! We did it in Human Reactions a while back, in the Society. Statistically speaking, when you fire a gun in someone's immediate vicinity – which is, like, a five-metre radius of their body – for three seconds that follow they're going to think they've been shot. It's a basic human reaction. Whenever a loud noise goes off, we're all going to jump, because, even if it's for zero point zero zero one seconds, we're going to think that we've been hit. But realistically, Luke is a spy, so for him it's probably going to be zero point nine seconds. Anyway. All your big actions have to take place in that time from, from the moment you shoot the gun to the moment he realises that it hasn't hit him, if it hasn't."

Annabeth watches her. "What do you mean?"

Piper drops on the sofa, obviously very pleased with herself. "Well. Let's say you want to shoot him in the arm. Regardless of whether you miss or not, there are going to be roughly zero point nine seconds where Luke is going to be practically paralysed. Maybe even less. Of course, if you do shoot him, you'll have an advantage when he comes out of it, because he'll be wounded, but that doesn't matter. Turn around, punch him, hit him, whatever. But if you haven't got aim on your side then your only other option to not letting him beat you is taking him by surprise."

Annabeth thinks for a second. "What if he sees blood?"

Piper blinks. "Hm?"

"What if he sees blood?"

"Luke?"

"Yeah. What if you make out you're going to shoot him in the heart but instead you shoot him the arm, so you don't kill him. After those zero point nine seconds he's going to feel pain and see blood."

Piper chews her lip. "You'll have at least four seconds then. Not to mention the advantage of him being injured."

Annabeth smirks.

Thalia waggles her finger. "You are not just going to rely on that. You need to get better at shooting, too."

"But you can't tell me that I'm hopeless now, can you?"

"Not if you don't get shot first. Luke's a spy, too, and a damn good one. He probably knows this."

Annabeth clicks the next bullet into the chamber and raises it. "He may be a good spy," she says, "but I'm better."

She pulls the trigger and the bullet hits dead centre.

* * *

School isn't _awkward_ , per say. It's just a little, ahem– _uncomfortable_.

It's not necessarily the fact that she and her friends have nothing to say. By the time lunch rolls around Annabeth thinks Leo has given her the history of his family tree three times and is considering a forth, and as soon as she sits down at the table Hazel immediately launches into a discussion about whether or not cows can think for themselves.

No. The reason why it's uncomfortable is because is Annabeth so much as says Percy's name the entire table gives each other these knowing looks that tells Annabeth that they most definitely saw their kiss.

Which is not exactly her idea of fun, you know. Considering the circumstances.

"So." Leo leans forward. "Lois."

Annabeth tries to keep a straight face. "Leo."

"How are you on this fine day, Lois?"

"I'm quite well."

"Excellent, excellent."

He looks at her thoughtfully for another few seconds.

"Can I ask you a question, Lois?"

"No."

"Wonderful." He laces his fingers. "What exactly is your relationship with Percy?"

Hazel splutters on her water. Percy looks utterly mortified.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

"Ah."

"Also, Percy is one of my men."

"Your men."

"My men."

Frank looks like he isn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

"Here's the thing, Lois," Leo says seriously. "I protect my men."

"I see."

"And if anyone tries to break one of my men's hearts they have me to deal with, you understand?"

Annabeth wonders if Leo realises he barely passes five foot four. "I understand."

"Good."

"It's okay, Leo," Percy says. He looks like he's dying and for a second a flare of panic wells in Annabeth's chest but when she looks closer she realises he's trying to suppress laughter, and just that alone is almost enough to set her off. "You can, uh. Lay off."

"You sure, Perce? I've still got a whole speech."

Frank lets out a wheeze like a dying whale.

Percy hollows his cheeks to stop himself from howling with laughter. "I'm sure, man. Thanks."

"No problem."

To his credit, Leo doesn't even look deterred. As soon as he's sat back down in his seat he starts talking about the pros and cons of the existence of volcanoes, a conversation which Hazel suddenly becomes very involved in, and then not a minute later Annabeth feels her phone buzz against her thigh. She pulls it out in confusion.

 **Percy** so

She rolls her eyes.

 **Lois** percy you're literally sitting across from me

 **Percy** i felt this had to be done in private

 **Lois** the bathrooms?

 **Percy** they would suspect something

 **Lois** it's not a murder perce

 **Percy** STILL

What a nerd.

 **Lois** fine

 **Lois** what did you want to talk about

 **Percy** uh

 **Percy** us actually

 **Lois** oh

 **Percy** yeah

 **Lois** what about us

 **Percy** well

 **Percy** we kissed

 **Lois** we did

 **Percy** was i okay

 **Lois** you were perfect

 **Percy** i didn't like suck or anything

 **Lois** not at all

 **Lois** you were great

 **Percy** okay

 **Percy** okay good

 **Lois** yeah

 **Percy** sooooooooooo

 **Lois** so

 **Percy** what does this mean exactly

 **Lois** oh

 **Lois** well i mean im not sure about you but boyfriend/girlfriend sounds cool

 **Lois** only if you want

 **Lois** like

 **Lois** you don't have to

 **Percy** no!

 **Percy** i'd love to that's great yes

 **Lois** okay

 **Percy** okay

 **Lois** so

 **Lois** we're dating now

 **Percy** yeah

 **Lois** that's so weird

 **Percy** rude

 **Lois** no this is just all so surreal like i cant believe this is happening

 **Percy** me either

 **Percy** also i have no experience with dating so this could just be one giant trainwreck warning

 **Lois** don't be silly

 **Lois** as long as im doing with you it'll be perfect

It's ridiculously cheesy and Annabeth hates it the second she presses send, but when she sees the way Percy's face brightens and then flushes red she thinks that it might have been worth it.

* * *

Science is– eventful, to say the least.

First off and most importantly, Mr Hephaestus decided to be a right pain in the arse and switch up the partners. Percy gets paired with Frank. Hazel is with a girl called Gwen. Leo is with Calypso Ogygia, of all girls, and if Annabeth weren't trying so hard to not strangle _her_ partner she would be immensely pleased for him.

Because guess who her partner is.

 _Brandon Lawrence._

Annabeth can't believe it either. When Mr Hephaestus had read it out she had grabbed onto the edge of the table so she wouldn't fall off her chair in shock.

Brandon doesn't look very pleased to see her. When she awkwardly sidles into the seat next to him he doesn't even spare her a second glance, instead choosing to look at her once with his lip curled and disdain in his eyes and then never again. Which suits her just fine. She doesn't necessarily want to look at Brandon either, not when he locked her in a closet with the intention of keeping her there for roughly nine hours.

On three occasions Hazel has turned around to give her an apologetic look. Annabeth reckons Leo would have bumped the number to ten if he hadn't been so involved in Calypso, practically tripping over his feet to do what she asked. He was right, Calypso is very pretty. She's got flowing caramel hair and clear skin with round almond eyes and she's wearing a white dress and she's so beautiful Annabeth almost forgets how to breathe for a second. She can see why Leo likes her, and not because when she walked past her to sit next to Brandon she heard her call Mr Hephaestus a "three-legged donkey with impaired eyesight and a nose for miles".

She hopes they end up together. She'd be good for Leo.

"Mr Lawrence, Miss Watermann?"

Annabeth looks up. It's Mr Hephaestus, standing by their desk.

"Sir?" Brandon says.

"Would you mind setting up the kettles?" Hephaestus asks. "We're doing a practical in around ten minutes and I need the water heated up so we don't have to stand waiting around."

Annabeth slides off her chair. "Of course, sir."

She and Brandon head over to the side. Annabeth is careful this time. The last time she went near the kettles she almost melted her nose off, and she doesn't need that happening again, especially not around Brandon. She slows her pace, hoping Brandon won't notice and just walk ahead.

He doesn't. In fact, as they approach the kettles, he seems to be walking slower, too.

When they get there, Annabeth stands a safe metre away. Brandon at least gets near them, but for some reason he seems a little jumpy, too. Annabeth zeroes in on him. Anyone else probably wouldn't have noticed, but he's being overly cautious in a way he doesn't need to be, and he's not even within touching distance. Annabeth wonders why.

They both stand there. Neither of them appear to be in any immediate hurry to switch them on.

"Well?" Brandon asks roughly. "Put them on."

"I'm not your slave. You do it."

"No!"

Annabeth eyes at him suspiciously. This is getting ridiculous.

"Why are you so scared?" she asks. "They're just kettles."

"I could say the same for you."

"I, um. Burnt myself a while back. I don't want it to happen again."

Brandon scoffs, but it's tight. He shuffles, watching the kettles.

For heaven's sake.

Annabeth sighs and pushes past him, filling up the kettles with water from the taps. At least there won't be any steam here that can melt her nose off. She waits until they're all filled and then puts them on their heat mats, flicking their switches on.

"That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" Brandon asks meanly.

"At least I had the guts to do it."

Brandon can't say anything against that he just stays quiet and sulks.

It takes a few minutes for the water to start bubbling. Annabeth watches the steam rising through their spouts, and takes a tiny step backwards so it doesn't reach her face. To her surprise, she sees Brandon do almost the exact same thing.

She Studies him. She hasn't done it before – it's always been a little unsettling to her, even though she does it so much. She doesn't like doing it to people she already knows. She feels like it's an invasion of privacy – it's why ever since she and Hazel became friends, she's never Studied her before. She'll study them briefly, but never as intensely as she does at first glance.

If you know a person, you'll pick up on their mannerisms and you'll be able to get even more from them.

But she never studied Brandon when they first met.

He's tall. That's almost it immediately. He's got broad shoulders and golden hair, with blue eyes and tanned skin. He looks like your average high schooler but Annabeth pushes past that, past the plain T-shirt and the store-bought jeans and sneakers. He's dressed so generically it's almost impossible to get anything from him, but she examines him like a final assignment. She can't get anything about his home life from his clothes – everything he's wearing is from the same place and they all look new. But he's got sweat patches under his shirt and it's a cool room with air conditioner. Nerves. But why on earth would he be nervous?

Annabeth glances at the kettles. They're singing away, the steam pouring out of them like smoke, and when she looks back at him he's staring at them like they're going to jump up and bite him. He can't be terrified of the kettles, can he? He's standing a good way away from them, almost as much as her, and she's distanced herself so she wouldn't even get a hint of steam her way. There's no way he'd be able to get burnt from one all the way over here.

So why is he so nervous?

Wait.

Why is _she_ so nervous?

Well, that's easy. She's got a prosthetic nose on that's been made out of facial clay, and if she gets too close the steam will melt it off. And she can't have that at all, because the nose she's wearing right now is meant to be her real nose. And real noses don't normally just _fall_ _off_ – and besides, she hasn't got any fake blood on her at the moment. She had left it in her binder back at her desk. It would raise suspicion if her nose fell off, but even more if there was no blood.

Annabeth suddenly feels sick.

 _No blood._

 _Annabeth is just about to lean over and vomit when she realises that that's all it is. A flap of skin. No blood. No bruise. No nothing. Just a flap of skin. He doesn't seem to realise it's there. It doesn't seem to be causing him any pain._

She takes a step backwards.

Oh, _no_.

 _Thalia snorts and goes back to doing whatever she was doing. "Perks of looking a lot more injured than you actually are."_

 _Annabeth frowns. That sounded familiar, but she isn't quite sure where from._

She knows where from, all right.

 _For someone who just got punched in the face, he looks a lot more injured than he should be._

Kettles. Steam. Nerves.

 _The steam from the kettles has melted the clay holding her fake nose in place._

A flap of skin.

 _Annabeth stares at it. A literal fold of skin is just hanging beneath his eye and he doesn't realise? How does that even happen?_

Annabeth turns and looks at herself in the reflection of the science lab windows. She sees long brown curls, brown wide eyes and in the middle of her face a large nose, made completely from prosthetics.

 _In what universe is getting injured to the point where a flap of your skin gets ripped off and is hanging off your face not painful?_

It all makes sense.

She looks back at Brandon. He's still cautiously watching the kettles.

 _Brandon and the boys start to head back out. However, just before he walks out completely, Brandon turns around to throw one of the tissues he was using to mop himself up in the bin – and Annabeth catches sight of his cheek. Which is now completely smooth._

 _The flap of skin is gone._

 _Annabeth tells herself she just imagined it._

The flap of skin wasn't a flap of skin.

It was prosthetic skin.

It's why he's so wary of the kettles, why in the bathroom all those months ago it was there one second, not causing him any pain in the slightest, and then gone in the next.

She takes another step backwards.

It looks like she isn't the only one undercover at Marino after all.

* * *

 **A/N i mean is anyone even really surprised at this point**

 **alsO GUYS OH MY GOODNESS WE'VE GOT 200 REVIEWS**

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	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

" _you fought my flaws, my teeth, my claws, with love_ "- with love, christina grimmie

* * *

TW: ptsd mentions

* * *

Percy is a little like a kitten.

Annabeth learns this very quickly.

They haven't been in Percy's room five minutes before Percy throws himself on his bed and wriggles up next to her. She's is so used to Piper doing the exact same that her hand goes to gently card through his hair simply on instinct; however, when her hand ends on the bare skin of his neck and she realises that he hasn't got long hair and in fact _isn't_ Piper she freezes.

Like. They're dating, so it should just be whatever.

But this is the first time they've ever done something this– _couply_. And it's weird.

"Don't stop," Percy mumbles into his blanket. "Feels nice."

Annabeth lets out a breathy little laugh and keeps going.

Oh yeah. Another thing.

She and Percy are, like. _Together_.

She still doesn't really think she's come to terms with it yet. Sure, it doesn't come as a _shock_ whenever Leo makes a joke about it or Percy shyly reaches for her hand across the table, per say, but it still feels weird, like it's all a dream. She just can't believe it, really. She, Annabeth Chase – or Lois Watermann, whatever – has a _boyfriend_. An actual, real-life, walking, talking _boyfriend_.

And it's Percy. _Percy_.

 _Percy_.

She's still freaking out a little, if you couldn't already tell.

"Percy," she hums. "Get off me, we need to do revision."

"No, leave me alone."

"We've got our Chemistry exam in like. A week."

"Exactly, plenty of time." Percy turns around so the back of his head is resting on Annabeth thighs and beams up at her. The look on his face is so childlike and beautiful she can't even scowl at him. She thinks the smile that makes its way out is more than fond. "So."

"So."

"Lois. My girlfriend."

Annabeth tries not to let the blush show on her face. "Percy."

"I was thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself."

"Oh, shut up." He makes himself comfortable, wriggling around until he's staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. "What are your thoughts on the possibility of a fifth date?"

"They're all positive."

"Excellent, it's what I like to hear."

"What do you want to do? There's a coffee shop like a ten-minute walk away from Marino that I go to sometimes. We could go there."

"I've also got aquarium coupons," Percy says. "Twenty percent off."

"Oh, so have I! How many do you have?"

"Three."

"I've got eight."

Percy sits up. "You have _eight_ twenty percent off aquarium coupons?"

"Tess needed to make like three billion cookies a while back so we had to buy about twenty-six cartons of milk. Eight of them had aquarium coupons on the sides."

"I'm incredibly impressed."

Annabeth smiles at him. "Well, good news. With our coupons together we've got two free aquarium tickets."

Percy winks at her. "I knew there I was a reason I liked you, Watermann. What time am I picking you up at?"

"Excuse you, _I'll_ pick you up."

"But I always pick you up!"

"Exactly. My turn now."

"Fine. What time?"

"Are you free next Saturday?"

"Should be."

"Great. Three pm?"

Percy nods. "It's a date."

"Well. There we go. We've got a date next weekend."

"Perfect." He lays back down on Annabeth, pillowing his head on her thighs again. She thumbs a strand of hair off his forehead and stares down into his green eyes. They're extremely pretty. He sleepily smiles at her through hooded eyes.

"Hey," he mumbles.

"You aren't falling asleep on me, are you?" Annabeth jokes.

Percy shakes his head adamantly. "Never."

Two minutes later, he's dead to the world. Annabeth only laughs a little.

Percy is not a necessarily very flattering sleeper. His mouth is open and he's drooling and sometimes he'll mumble out something nonsensical (Annabeth's favourites so far include "shhh _ush_ I'm all _ooooweeed_ tooo" and "we need'ta st _opp_ themmm, Grov _yyyyyy_ "), but he's got his hand fisted in her T-shirt and if that doesn't make her heart swell every time he moves around and tightens his grip then she's not sure what will.

She runs her fingers gently down the curve of his cheek. They settle at the base of his neck, barely a whisper against his skin, hovering above a silver scar the size of a walnut on the underside of his jaw.

Annabeth has taken Injury And Aid classes since she could walk. It's not very hard to tell from its curved shape and size that it was made from a belt buckle.

 _Gabe_.

Annabeth knows Percy is okay. Perfect? No, definitely not. No one recovers from parental abuse that quickly. But he's okay, and that's all that matters; still, as her fingers gently touch the scar, the puckered pink skin, the tiny dots around it where she reckons it was stitched up, she feels rage boil in her stomach. If she ever sees Gabe, she is going to rip him limb from limb.

Which she can do, by the way. It's not even very hard.

Percy shifts in his sleep, and Annabeth fondly traces the line of his cheekbone.

He's beautiful. When he wakes up, she'll tell him so.

She shuffles down so her head is on Percy's pillow and closes her eyes. It's not a very smart idea, because it's around four in the afternoon on a school day, and she won't be able to get any sleep tonight, and also because day-sleeping for Annabeth always isn't great for her mental state. At night, she's trained herself to do have a dreamless sleep – it took a bloody long time, because sometimes she'd get so frustrated that she didn't end up sleeping at all. But, after several years of Chiron's steady, patient training and Lou-Ellen's hippy meditation methods involving lots of smelling salts and finger-painting, she could finally do it – but she never mastered getting the dreams away during the daytime.

It's a subconscious thing. Whenever it's dark, she won't dream, because that's how she's trained herself.

This time? Not so much. Percy's blinds are closed but they're thin and light is trickling through like water. It's midday and his door is slightly ajar, the hallway lights and the faint noise of the television coming in.

So when she drifts off to sleep with the boy she loves tucked in her arms, it's anything but peaceful.

Which, you know. Huzzah and all that.

At first, she dares hope that it'll be okay. The dream starts murky and dark, something Annabeth can't make out, like looking at the depths of a muddy pond. But when the scene changes, when something flashes and she hears a scream, she knows that now she's not so lucky.

It's back at the bakery. There's a mom and her toddler sitting at one of the tables, a man with a buzzcut and a newspaper at another, and a group of teenage girls in crop tops and expensive white trainers at another. Through the glass of the counter, Annabeth can see rows of iced meringue buns, cakes covered in fondue, gingerbread men in plastic wrappers and cherry pies laid out on their stands. She chooses a seat next to the window. It's safer here. She can watch everyone from afar.

Besides, she never liked being in the hub of everything, anyway.

But then suddenly she smells gasoline and everything goes in autopilot as seconds too late she realises what's going to happen, and before she can stand up and scream the counter explodes and then so do the tables and the chairs and the floorboards are being ripped from the ground and Annabeth can only wait and watch as the flames and force of the bomb hit her and she's thrown off her feet through one of the windows, and she pain flares in her back as her spine hits double-glazed glass and then she's on the ground, on the _pavement_ , and she can't breathe, and it takes too long for her to look down and realise there's a table leg sticking out of her stomach, a table leg in her lung, and she can't scream so instead she _gasps_ and–

" _Lois_!"

Annabeth's eyes fly open. Percy hovering over her, his green eyes wide and anxious, and he's holding her wrists and she can feel herself _trembling_ beneath him. She rips herself free from his grasp, instead opting to sit up and wrap her arms around herself. She feels her pulse throughout her whole body like an electric heartbeat and it terrifies her, so she just stares helplessly at Percy like he'll know what to do.

"Are you okay?" he asks worriedly.

"I–..."

"You were screaming," Percy tells her. He looks terrified. "I didn't know what to do, I thought if I wake you up it would stop–"

She braces herself on her arms. "Yeah, sorry," she says. She sounds a bit breathless but neither of them say anything about it. "Um. Just had a nightmare."

"Are you sure?" he asks, concerned. "That sounded pretty– intense."

"It's okay, honest." She tries for a laugh. It comes out slightly strangled-sounding. "Just your generic, uh, monster-alien shebang. You know how those are."

"You said something about a bomb."

She suctions her lower lip between her teeth. "Yeah, um. I don't know, Perce, I– it was just a nightmare."

Percy watches her for a few seconds – and then he nods. "Okay," he says softly. "As long as you're okay."

"I'm okay."

Percy shifts around, throwing his arm around Annabeth's shoulder and pulling her into him. Annabeth is a little confused, because this is the first time they've ever done something like this, but she goes willingly; she's still petrified and her pulse is still jackrabbiting in her veins. She closes her eyes and presses her forehead against his shoulder, and lets out a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"It's okay."

But it's not, not really.

Because it's happened once. And Luke's still out there.

And now with Brandon...

Annabeth just isn't sure who she can trust anymore.

* * *

Thalia is cooking tonight.

Normally, Thalia is quite a good cook, and by good cook Annabeth means she's able to butter three slices of bread and cut a carrot into semi-equal thirds without blowing up anything. However, when Piper had gone grocery shopping the week before, a cake covered in pink icing and marzipan people had distracted her and while that had tasted great while it lasted they had about five dollars left to survive them the next three weeks food-wise.

Meaning that Annabeth won't be surprised if for dinner they're each eating two baked beans.

"A nightmare?" Piper asks, astonished. " _Really_?"

Annabeth nods. She feels a little shaky. "Yeah."

"That's not good at all," says Piper worriedly. Her forehead creases. "You haven't had one since you arrived here, though? Is this your first one?"

"In New York, yeah. I used to get them a lot back of the Society."

"I thought Chiron had helped sort that out."

"He did. But it only works for sleeping at night. I dunno, it's something to do with brain patterns or whatever and how all the times I practiced it was in a dark room late at night, so subconsciously that must be at night when I'm okay."

"And you just fell asleep at Percy's and it just came?" Piper asks.

Annabeth manages a laugh. "You sound like my therapist."

"Oh, shut up. I'm looking after you, silly." She sobers, tilting her head. "Has anything remotely traumatic happened this week that you think might have brought it on?"

 _Brandon_.

Annabeth closes her eyes at the thought. She still hasn't told Thalia and Piper about him. There's something in the pit of her stomach that hopes, _prays_ , that he's another one of Chiron's hired help kids, to look after her. It would be like a blow to the head, sure, but it would be infinitely better than him being anything else.

But she can't forget the way his eyes flashed at that football game all those months ago, the way Annabeth felt like she was twelve years old again staring into the eyes of her first psychopath.

She doesn't want to think what it means. But she knows that she has to be on her guard.

Slowly, she shakes her head. "I don't know," she says. "I don't think so."

Lies, lies, lies.

Piper purses her lips. "Okay," she says. "I'll do some research. But for now, are you okay?"

Annabeth nods. "Yeah."

At least that's the truth.

The conversation sits with her uncomfortably for the rest of the night. Piper pats her shoulder and then snuggles right up next to her, flicking on the TV and watching whatever pointless sitcom is on. Annabeth puts her arm around her shoulders and plays with her hair, but her mind is whirring.

What if Piper is _right_ and Brandon subconsciously created enough fear in her mind for it to take place as nightmare? It's not a far-fetched theory. Annabeth is a survivor of PTSD. When she was seven she watched one of her friends get shot in front of her eyes and it took her months, years, to recover. She remembers being eight and on the brink of recovery, but every now and then relapsing whenever she saw a gun, and a few months later being perfectly okay but having an impromptu panic attack when she heard the sound of gunfire from the shooting range.

But why would Brandon bring that up?

Thalia and Piper didn't spike any nightmares, and she found out that they were spies. Then again, that may be because Piper is currently tucked under her arm in her T-shirt snorting at some of the lines on TV and Thalia is in the kitchen swearing at the oven, and Brandon had locked her in a cupboard with the intent of keeping there for around nine hours.

The only other possibility–

No.

She shakes her head. It's impossible. She can't even believe she would think that.

She's brought of her reverie when Thalia comes out of the kitchen balancing three plates in her hands. "Dinner!" she calls.

Piper looks away from the screen. "What is it?" she asks suspiciously.

"A sandwich," Thalia says, much to Annabeth's pleasant surprise. "Now hurry up, I'm starving."

Annabeth's joy doesn't last long. She and Piper ungracefully climb over the back of the sofa and stumble to the table, and Annabeth wrinkles her nose in distaste as Thalia puts her plate in front of her.

Correction: it's half a sandwich, and when she opens it she finds that the filling is simply a thin layer of crushed chickpeas with the tiniest corner off a block of cheese.

Piper doesn't look anymore thrilled than she feels. "Oh," she says.

Thalia sighs. "Look, I know this isn't a five-star meal, but could you at least be a little more enthusiastic?"

"This wouldn't even get half a star," Piper says.

"At least it's food, you ungrateful swine. Besides, if you hadn't forked out a fortune over that silly cake we'd be eating something much nicer."

"You mean something that isn't expired?" Annabeth asks dryly.

Thalia flushes. "It's only a few days."

"The chickpeas went off a week ago, Thalia."

Piper wrinkles her nose and pushes her plate away. "Oh, gross."

"This is your fault, McLean."

"The cake was nice!"

"Yes, but it also cost, like, forty dollars."

Piper ducks her head, embarrassed. "Fifty."

Annabeth laughs. "Our prom dresses combined were cheaper than that."

"Yes, but that's because our prom dresses were second-hand."

"The next time you bring home a cake even a quarter of that price I'm booting your nose in," Thalia threatens. "I don't even care if you're my friend. The next three weeks our dinners are going to be no more exciting than this."

Annabeth pushes it to the side experimentally. "I don't even know if this is safe to eat."

Thalia sighs. "Probably not."

Both of their plates meet Piper's in the middle of the table. None of them have been touched.

"Well," Piper says. "Our tactic from now on is to just leech food from everyone during lunch."

Thalia scowls. "Right, because that's going to work so well for me."

"Just flirt with the guy at the counter at the corner shop," Piper says. "It's not a very honest way of obtaining food but if you wink at him enough and maybe wear a tight shirt with a low neckline you'll get a loaf of bread and probably a few packets of sweets out it."

"I'm not so desperate that I'll pimp myself out for food, Piper."

"Well, it's either that or you cover your face in mud and go begging. I realise I've made a small mistake, but we now all have to live with the consequences."

"That doesn't seem fair," Annabeth says.

"Well, that's because it's not, really. But we're in this together."

Annabeth rolls her eyes.

"I swear you have some rich friends," she says. "Just ask them for money."

"I can't do that. They all think that I'm rich too."

Thalia snorts. "How on earth did you manage to pull that off?"

"Well, it's a private school. Everyone who is anyone goes there."

"You're not anyone, though," Annabeth says.

"The Society has got a dozen spies all across the country. A politician who lives in Oregon is part of the National Society Trade, and he's got a daughter called Contessa. He hasn't actually, but it's just a cover. He's had about fifteen girls in his life play Contessa. It's how Chiron gets them into private schools. So long as they have dark hair the media doesn't really give them any immediate coverage, but it's enough publicity to secure a place at schools for the rich and famous."

"So you're the Contessa for this year."

"Quite right. Or however long I'll be Contessa for. If Chiron needs me to stop so someone else can get into a posh boarding school in London so they can bring down the British Government or whatever I'll just drop out of school and dye my hair blonde. And don't look at me like that. Blondes with tans are actually very in at the moment."

"Yeah, except. Um. You're a little more than 'tan'."

"Oh, shush. But back to your question. No, I can't just ask people for money."

"Why?" Thalia asks. "I'm sure all the girls will be more than pleased to show off their wealth."

"That's simply not how it works, Thalia. If you had any experience with socialising you'd realise."

Thalia scowls at her.

"Well." Annabeth looks mournfully at her plate. "It looks like we're all going to be on a diet for a while. Excuse me as for the next three weeks I practically go to Percy's house every single day."

"Bring back some stuff for us," Piper tells her, unbothered. "When Sally's back is turned ransack their cupboards."

"Right, because that what I want to do to my boyfriend's mom."

Piper and Thalia share a look at the word 'boyfriend'. It's that moment when Annabeth realises that she hasn't yet told them about her and Percy and suddenly goes scarlet.

"Um," she squeaks.

" _Boyfriend_?" Piper demands.

"Maybe?"

" _Maybe_? When did this _happen_?"

"Like. Last week?"

Piper splutters with indignation. " _Last week_! Why didn't you tell me? I thought we were friends!"

"Slipped my mind?"

It never slipped her mind. Percy has been the only thing on her mind since they sealed the deal.

Well. Also Brandon. But mainly Percy.

"Rubbish," Piper spits. "I am outraged."

"Shut up, Piper," Thalia says. "No one cares."

"I care! Do you even hear what's happening, Thalia? Percy is Annabeth's boyfriend and has been for a week and not once – not once – did she even think to tell me?"

"It's not your business."

"Not my business my bottom! This is important information!"

"Relax," Annabeth says. "What's done is done."

Piper falls back in her seat, silently seething. "We aren't done here, Chase," she hisses.

Thalia rolls her eyes and turns to Annabeth. "What she _meant_ to say," she corrects, "is congratulations. I'm happy for you guys."

"Thank you."

"I'm not," Piper says crossly. "I've been betrayed."

"Oh, do get over yourself, Piper."

Annabeth holds out her arms. "Can I have a hug?"

"No," Piper says sullenly.

"Come on."

"No."

"You know you want to."

Piper huffs and stands up, and wraps her arms around Annabeth's shoulders. Annabeth knows she's pleased for her, too, and she smiles against her shoulder.

"Percy's a good guy," Piper says, muffled. "I'm happy for you, Beth. You deserve this."

"Thank you."

Annabeth is too caught up to realise the storm brewing overhead.

* * *

 **A/N foreshadowing wooooo**

 **Hey guys!**

 **First off let me just start off by saying that you are all absolutely incredible. I love you all so so much and thank you all x100000 for leaving such wonderful, amazing reviews. I appreciate you all so much and you are absolutely incredible.**

 **Just a few people I missed last chapter:**

 **Jessica'BlueBell'Potter-JPBBX** – girl i love you so much you are amazing and beautiful and fantastic thank you so much for your lovely lovely reviews I love you so much

 **milo ashby** \- thank you so so much you lovely human being :DDD

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 **Also shoutout to MusicalBookworm for being awesome and my pals Rachel and Helena for being amazing and wonderful and incredible love you guys xx**

 **That's all for this chapter! Have a wonderful week and also wish me luck I've got my exam week next week so crossed fingers that goes well. I hope you all enjoyed that and I'll see you next Saturday! Byee xx**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

* * *

" _is this paradise or a darker side?_ "  
\- wasteland, against the current

* * *

Annabeth decides to take her Brandon investigation to the next level.

And she knows exactly the way to do it.

She's been feeling shifty about Brandon ever since the nightmare. Of course, she had always been a little uncertain around him, even before she realised that he was also undercover (she thinks it's the teeth. They're rather unnervingly bright), but she just can't get what Piper said to her out of her head.

 _Has anything remotely traumatic happened this week that you think might have brought it on?_

Brandon is sort of traumatic, isn't he? It's not every day you realise that the same boy who locked you in a closet is also a possible spy. Annabeth thinks about all her training back at the Society, and how if she wanted she could kill a man with her bare hands in less than three minutes.

God knows what Brandon knows. The fact that he had the potential to do something much worse to her makes her kind of glad he just put her in a closet.

There's only one person who will tell her anything about Brandon. Annabeth just hopes that she doesn't slit her throat with her long acrylic nails before that happens.

Drew Tanaka is sitting at her lunch table with her friends when Annabeth decides to ask. She's always found their table a little intimidating, if she's being honest – everyone there is absolutely flawless, with their glossy mani-pedis, designer clothing and sharp, clear eyes that'll either make you regret being born or melt. They decrease in status the further away they are from the centre of the table; Annabeth can see several girls with hair-chalk highlights and knock-off Prada handbags craning their necks to listen in to the conversation happening in the hub.

The queens bees are sitting at the centre: Drew, Silena Beauregard and Nancy Bobofit. Silena is the nicest out of the three and on several occasions has stopped Annabeth in the corridors to compliment her hair or her clothes ("Girl. Excuse my suddenness but can I just say your hair is _gorgeous_. Are your curls natural?") and out of the three Annabeth would definitely pick Silena to talk to, but Drew is the one with the information.

They all look up in sync as Annabeth approaches them. She can see Nancy suppress a smirk at her clothes.

(So maybe her skirt has a cranberry juice stain on it. Whatever.)

"Watermann." Drew's voice is level.

"Uh, hey." Annabeth tries for a smile. Silena is the only one who smiles back.

"What are you doing here, freak?" Nancy asks boredly.

"I actually wanted to speak to you, Drew."

Drew looks surprised. "Me?"

"Uh, yeah. If that's okay."

"Of course." Drew stands up. She even moves perfectly. Annabeth is a little jealous. "We won't be one minute, ladies."

Together, Drew and Annabeth head towards the corridors. They're abandoned now – everyone is outside or in the cafeteria. Drew stops by the lockers and folds her arms, tossing a sheet of sleek black hair over one shoulder.

"What do you want?"

Now or never, Chase.

Annabeth straightens and looks at Drew right in the eyes. "Information."

Drew raises her eyebrows.

"On Brandon Lawrence," Annabeth supplies. "You game?"

"And why should I tell you, Watermann? I don't owe you anything."

Annabeth Studies Drew's eyes. They're dark and intimidating and Annabeth feels herself instinctively square up just looking at them, but there's something about Drew's posture that gives it all away.

Annabeth tilts her head. "Because something tells me you don't like Brandon Lawrence either."

Drew doesn't flinch, but Annabeth knows she's hit the nail on the head when her closed-off expression becomes one of almost grudging respect.

"Ten dollars."

Annabeth digs around her pockets and produces a ten-dollar bill. Drew takes it delicately, folding it into a little square and pushing it inside her bra.

"You have yourself a deal, Watermann," she says. "I'll get everything I can by tomorrow."

* * *

She doesn't. In fact, when Annabeth nervously approaches her to ask about it, Drew just sighs and hands her back her ten dollars.

Annabeth stares at it, appalled. "You didn't do it?"

"Couldn't," Drew says. "I couldn't find a thing."

" _Nothing_?"

Annabeth's hackles begin to rise.

"I'm really sorry, Lois," Drew says honestly. It's the first time she's ever called her by her first name. "I couldn't find anything. He has no social media. No Snapchat, no Instagram, not even a Twitter. The only thing I could pull up was a Facebook but that hadn't been active since 2007 and the profile picture was a sunset that could be anywhere. I even got Silena to ask Clarisse to pick the lock to his locker, but it's devoid of anything. There are only textbooks, and they all look brand new. Even his clothes tell me nothing; I had a rootle through his gym locker when he was at football practice and checked the labels. They're all from Macy's."

Annabeth shakes her head in disbelief. "That's impossible. How could he not have anything?"

Drew shrugs. "Beats me. The boy is an open book. An open _note_ book. All his secrets are out in the open but that's only because he has none."

Annabeth thinks of the blood on his face, the flap of skin underneath his eye. "Mm."

Drew hesitates. "I mean. There is one thing, I guess."

Annabeth looks up. "What?"

"It's not much. But his car is in the shop. Silena and I were going to get our nails done and we passed the garage, and we saw him talking with Nyssa – she's the girl who runs it."

"Did you see what was wrong with it?"

"I think it must be an engine problem." Drew shrugs again. "But all four tires had been duct-taped."

" _Duct-taped_?"

"Weird, right?"

Annabeth frowns. "But– why would they be duct-taped? Do you think someone slashed them?"

A look of irritability flashes across Drew's face. "I'm not a detective, Watermann. I don't know. All I saw was that his car was in the shop and all of the tires had been wrapped in duct-tape like Christmas presents."

Annabeth chews her lip. That simply makes no sense.

"Well, thank you," she says. "For looking."

"I'm sorry I couldn't find anything."

"It's okay."

Annabeth hitches her bag strap over her shoulder and starts to head off. However, just before she's out of earshot, Drew calls, "Lois."

Annabeth turns.

Drew leans against the lockers. Everything about her is so achingly calm. "Do you need me to ruin him for you?"

They both know what she's talking about. Annabeth thinks of the dozens of pictures saved on Drew's phone, screenshotted Snapchats from boys who were naïve and hopeful enough to believe the words coming out of her lipsticked mouth. Annabeth knows the stories. She's already got about twelve boys on their hands and knees doing her dirty work for her because of her threats to release the pictures to the school.

Annabeth doesn't hesitate for a second she'll be able to bring down Brandon. But she doesn't want to ruin him. She wants to uncover him.

"It's okay," she says softly. "But thanks."

"Be careful, Watermann. If you play with fire you're going to get burned."

Annabeth nods.

"Thank you, Drew."

"Anytime."

The conversation sticks with her for the rest of the day.

Why would Brandon's tires be duct-taped? The friction between the wheels and the road would rip them to shreds in minutes. It's the most ineffective method of patching up a tire ever, and if Brandon is smart enough to carry around blood sachets and wear prosthetic cheekbones to change the shape of his face then he's going to be smart enough to know that duct-tape on tires is utterly useless.

Also, he would know how to fix a car. It was one of the first topics in Mechanics. The break would have to be pretty damn impressive if Brandon couldn't fix it – but it must have been at a short notice, if the duct-tape on the wheels was still intact enough for Drew to recognise it.

She needs to check it out. Something is wrong here.

But she has to bide her time. Thalia and Piper don't know about Brandon and she kind of doesn't want them to find out – at least, not now. She can't whizz off at night t "do stuff", because that would be much too suspicious. She needs to wait.

Her time comes when she arrives back home to Thalia and Piper. It's around seven or eight; Piper is doing homework and Thalia is moodily flicking through a teen magazine she picked up apparently for the hell of it.

"Who's your spring summer crush?" she mumbles absently. "Take the quiz to find out."

"Who are the candidates?" Piper asks.

Annabeth pushes at her with her foot. "No, homework."

"I'm bored."

Thalia flips through it, tired. "None of them even seem that great," she says. "They look kind of bland, to be honest."

"Well, of course you'd say that," Piper says. "You've sworn off boys, haven't you?"

Annabeth looks up. "What?"

Thalia rolls her eyes. "You didn't have to say that."

"You've sworn off boys?" Annabeth asks.

"Well. Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because boys suck."

"Not all of them."

"Oh, I forgot you have a boyfriend now," Thalia says insincerely. "Whoops."

"No, it's not that. I just– why?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious. It's not often you hear someone who's sworn off boys."

"It's not that big of a deal," Thalia says. "My dad was rotten. Beat Mom black and blue. Not that Mom was any better, though."

Addict. Annabeth hears it in her voice.

"Is that why you joined the Society?" she asks softly.

Thalia laughs. "You don't have to sound so sympathetic."

"I mean. It's a sad story, isn't it?"

"Not really. I mean, sure, it can be. But I never knew Mom, not properly, and I knew Dad long enough to know that he beat her. So I thought, until I am able to snap a man's wrist in half I am never dating ever again. Not that I ever dated before that. But now that I can snap a wrist in half I just realised that I don't really ever want to date again. Hence the swearing thing."

"Huh." Annabeth is kind of impressed. "That's cool."

"I know." Thalia smiles at her. "So. Dinner, anyone?"

Piper groans. "Preferably not?"

"You can't starve."

"It's better than week-old chickpeas on a slice of bread."

Annabeth sees her chances, and takes it.

"I can buy us something," she offers.

Thalia gives her a dead look. "What about 'we are on a budget' do you not understand?"

"There's a burrito store a few minutes away from Marino," Annabeth says. "They do burritos for like ninety-nine cents."

"Oh, please, Thalia," Piper begs. "I'm starving and I can't do out-of-date canned food again."

Thalia sighs. "Fine."

"Can I take some money?"

"Sure." Thalia throws her a bill. "Go wild."

Annabeth stares at it. "Thalia, this is– a dollar."

"I know."

"The burritos are _ninety-nine cents_."

"And we are on a budget."

Piper looks crestfallen. "We're going to have to share one burrito between the three of us?"

"Unless there are three sides that will be enough to fill us up," Thalia says. "Now, don't stray and be late. We're starving."

Annabeth shoves the dollar in her pocket and heads out the door, throwing on the darkest hoodie she can find.

"I'll be home soon," she calls.

And then she's gone.

* * *

The car garage is not far.

She runs there as fast as she can. She's wearing sneakers with rubber soles and black clothes, and for the first time she's grateful that her hair is dark. The garage is closed but that doesn't bother her in the slightest: she's broken into many, many things, one of which being a top-secret safe with an eyeball scanner and voice recognition password. This should be a piece of cake.

She runs her fingers over the padlock of the front gate. It's a number lock, with a specific pass code to get the lock to open. She can't break it – that would be too obvious. She studies it. Humans develop oils on the fingers – the logical way someone would open it would be the first row, then the second, then the third. It's a car workshop. The pass code can't be that hard, because nothing here would be expensive or worthy enough for someone to want to steal.

The numbers look worn. Very worn. It's been used a lot.

She twists the numbers around. It's too easy.

The numbers that are the clearest are obviously the ones used for the password. No one would swipe past the number.

 _334_

Easy.

She pushes open the gate as quietly as possible and slides through.

Brandon's car is simple to find. It's the one that's being propped open by a wrench – and next to it, just like Drew said, are four tires, one top of the other, each one wrapped in layers of duct-tape.

Annabeth feels along them. Beneath the duct-tape she feels valleys, where the tires have obviously been cut open. It's too precise to have been keyed. Someone cut them open with knives – and obviously Brandon was in too much of a rush to replace the tires so he put duct-tape on it.

But tires aren't hard to change. Whatever he had been doing when his tires had been cut was obviously extremely important.

Annabeth presses her fingers against it.

No social media. No records. No personalization.

And now it's all fake blood and prosthetic skin and cuts in his tires too neat to be keyed.

There's something so horribly, horribly wrong about this.

Something is going to happen.

Two months later, Percy doesn't show up to school.

And neither, Annabeth notes– does Brandon.

* * *

 **A/N Hey guys!**

 **sorry this is so short. i've come down with the worst cramps ever (so if anyone has any remedies that could help pls let me know im dying) and also exam week was excruciating. thank you to everyone who wished me good luck! i don't think i did too badly however my chemistry and my calculator maths exam were hideous watch as i fail wooo**

 **I hope you like this one! it was fun to write. im sorry its a filler and that i left you on another cliffhanger. this week has just been a little nightmarish. however i'm on half term so next chapter will be much better hopefully!**

 **that's it for today! please tell me what you thought and i'll see you soon!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

* * *

" _shifting your weight to throw off the pain / well, you can't ignore it_ "  
\- careful, paramore

* * *

"Hey, Lois," Hazel says. "Have you seen Percy today?"

Annabeth's hands still. "I– no, I don't think I have."

That was weird. It's only just come to her attention that she hasn't, in fact, seen him today at all. They had texted that morning (" _are you serious perce the homework is due FIRST PERIOD_ " " _relax lois i can do it on the bus_ " " _YOUR BUS JOURNEY IS LIKE TWO MINUTE_ S") but because Thalia had insisted they speak in Morse code that morning it had taken Piper five minutes to tell Annabeth that her bus had come early, and so by the time she had finished banging on the table with her spoon the bus had already come and gone and which meant Annabeth had to sprint to school, meaning she arrived late. She hadn't really given Percy a second thought, because her first lesson was a Biology pop quiz and she had focused all her attention on that.

Is Percy even at school today?

"Oh." Hazel shrugs and stabs at some of her pasta. "Just wondering."

"Is he here today?"

"I don't think so. We're doing a presentation together in History and I wanted to know if he was here so we could work on it during lunch, but everyone I've asked hasn't seen him. I'm assuming he's absent."

"Oh. That's weird."

They had talked that morning. Percy had talked about handing in homework and how he was going to get killed because he hadn't done it.

And now he wasn't at school?

Something isn'r right here.

"He's probably sick or something," Hazel says.

"Yeah." Annabeth fumbles around with her phone. "Here, I'll call him."

It'll ease her nerves. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realises that if he doesn't pick up she'll fret herself into a panic. With all that's going on, no one is safe. As far as she's aware, there are two professionally trained spies at Marino, both with the potential to kill and get away with it.

One of them is ruled out immediately, because one of them is Annabeth. But the other is Brandon, who has slits in his tires and murder in his eyes and who once locked Annabeth in a closet with the intent of keeping her there for six hours.

There could be a serial killer lurking Marino's corridors but because he's put on a woolly coat and has blood sachets sewn into the inner lining of his sleeve he's a wolf in sheep's clothing that can stalk the school undetected.

 _Don't mess with me, Chase. This is your lesson._

She closes her eyes and pulls out her phone. Shut up, Annabeth.

The phone rings five times before Percy picks up, and when he does Annabeth feels her chest swell with consolation.

"Hey!" he chirps over the line.

"Hey, Percy!" Annabeth says, trying not to let her immense relief show in her voice. Hazel motions to put it on loudspeaker, so Annbeth pulls the phone away from her ear and presses the button. "You're on loudspeaker with Hazel."

"Hey Percy!" Hazel pipes.

"Hey!"

"How are you?" Annabeth asks. "You haven't been at school."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I dunno, I was walking out the door and suddenly I just– passed out. Mom heard me fall and put me to bed. I've got a slight concussion from hitting my head on the doorframe but I'm okay, I think."

Hazel creases her forehead. "Oh, Percy. That's awful."

"Yeah, it wasn't fun."

The wheels in Annabeth's mind start to turn. She closes her eyes. "Did it just come out nowhere?" she asks.

"Yeah, completely out the blue. It was weird, man. My shoulder really hurts – I think i must have fallen on it when I collapsed."

Shoulder. Out of the blue.

Huh.

"Man, that sucks," she says. "I'm sorry, Perce."

"It's okay. On the bright side, I get a day in bed, which is sweet, and I only had to pass out to get it."

Hazel snorts. "Don't be silly, Percy."

"I'm not kidding. I'm extraordinarily pleased with the outcome."

"Do you think you'll be in tomorrow?" Hazel asks.

"Probably. I've taken some paracetamol and I don't feel as queasy as I did, so I should. Don't worry, I won't leave you to do the presentation all by yourself."

"I'd hope not." Hazel stands up shouldering her bag. "Well, I'd best be off. I'm meeting Frank for revision. I'll leave you two."

Percy laughs. "Bye, Hazel."

"Bye, Percy. Feel better soon."

Annabeth watches fondly as Hazel heads off. She's wearing a yellow dress and Annabeth is momentarily caught off by how flattering Hazel's hair and skin looks in yellow.

"Lois?" Percy's voice crackling over the line brings her out of her reverie. She shakes her head and clicks the setting off of loudspeaker, bringing the phone back to her ear.

"Hey, sorry," she says. "I'm here."

"Just us?"

Annabeth snorts at his hopeful tone. "Yes, Percy. Just us."

"Marvellous. I've been wanting to see you for ages."

"You saw me yesterday."

"That's much, much too long."

"You were the one who got sick."

Percy sighs melodramatically. "Yes, I know. Woe is me."

Annabeth laughs a little. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. A little shaken up, but I'm good."

"So what happened? Did you just feel sick?"

"I think so. I don't know, I felt this sharp pain in my shoulder and then I passed out. I've had some painkillers, though, so my head's okay – I hit it when I fell – but yeah, it was just weird. It's all good, though. I'm good."

"Good. I was worried when you didn't show up. Thought you had gotten into an accident or something."

"Please, I would have told you one way or another. I would have temporarily come out of my car-crash induced coma to text you _just been hit by a bus brb ily kiss kiss kiss_ and then gone right back into it."

ily.

Annabeth is pretty sure she knows what that means. Butterflies explode in her stomach.

"You're such a nerd," she says, trying to keep her voice level.

"Thanks, I try." There comes a little shuffling over the phone, as if Percy is moving around on the bed. "So, how's school without me? Are you all suffering?"

"We played a funeral march on the way in to acknowledge the lack of your presence."

"That's what I like to hear. Any drama?"

"Nancy Bobofit punched a girl on the cheer squad because she said she looked like an ape."

"I meant with Brandon, but I suppose that works too."

"Oh, Brandon!" Annabeth furrows her brow. Thinking about it, she doesn't actually think she's seen him today either.

Chills creep up her spine.

"Uh, nothing has happened. I don't even think he's here."

"Excellent. Now he can't make any moves on my girl while I'm not here."

"'My girl'?"

"Well, of course. We're dating now. I can say things like that."

"Then you're my boy."

Percy pauses. "See, that doesn't quite have the same effect."

"Would you rather I call Brandon 'my boy', you ungrateful monkey?"

Percy bursts out laughing. "Sorry, sorry."

"That's what I thought."

"This is what I get for trying to be romantic. _Abuse_."

"Oh, man up."

Percy laughs.

The bell rings. Annabeth almost throws her phone in surprise; she was so wrapped up in her conversation that she didn't realise lunch was over. She sees everyone begin to stand up and throw their food away, and with a sinking heart she realises she might have to say goodbye.

"Was that the lunch bell?" Percy asks.

Annabeth sighs. "Yeah."

"I guess we'll have to end the conversation here, then."

"I can hear your heart breaking over the line."

"I'm biting back tears."

Annabeth giggles. "You're so stupid."

"So are you. Can I text you during class?"

"I have a Maths test."

"Boo."

"I'll come around after school. I'll just need to pop home first to get some stuff."

"Will you buy me some ice cream on the way?"

"You just got a concussion, I doubt ice cream will be very helpful."

"It would have been a few hours by the time school ends."

"I'll think about it."

"Thanks, babe, you're the best."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I hope you feel better," she says. "All my love."

"You too."

"Bye."

"Bye."

* * *

The flat is empty when Annabeth arrives home.

She isn't really expecting anything else. Piper is still at school and Thalia had mentioned something about visiting a shooting range (in Morse code), so she has the place to herself. To celebrate this newfound freedom she tosses her bag on the floor and revels in the lack of, "ANNABETH CHASE YOU PICK THAT UP _RIGHT THIS INSTANT_ " that follows.

She rips a piece of paper out of her notepad and scrawls a note to Piper and Thalia on it, so when they arrive home and she isn't there they know where she is ( _'hey guys I'm at Percy's [he was sick] so I'll be back soon byee xx [also pipes Jason asked for your number and i gave it to him ur welcome]_ '). She sticks it to the fridge with a magnet and pads to her bedroom to grab some of her schoolbooks that she hasn't already brought in.

However, something catches her eye.

It's a flyer for a phone company. The graphics are awful but it's in perfect condition, and it's lying on her bed innocently. She walks over and picks it up, frowning. It looks like an ordinary flyer – but why is it on her bed?

Whatever.

She heads to the kitchen, and is just about to toss it in the bin when something stops her.

JACK & SONS PHONE COMPANY

She's never heard of a phone company called Jack & Sons. Ever. And she knows her phones – she's gone through so many burn phones she lost track at sixty-seven. If there were a brand called Jack & Sons she would have come across them at least once.

Just to double check, Annabeth pulls her phone out of her back pocket and types it into Google.

Nothing.

Annabeth doesn't put the flyer in the bin. She places it on the table and stares at it.

There's definitely something wrong here.

She looks at it long and hard. It looks like your ordinary junk mail flyer. It's garishly coloured with rather dull letterwork – Annabeth reckons she could have made a better-looking one with her eyes closed. JACK & SONS PHONE COMPANY is pasted along the top. Beneath it, it reads:

GET WHAT YOU WANT TODAY!

JUST CALL 62618!

REMEMBER: WE HAVE A NO-RETURN POLICY, SO CHOOSE WISELY!

Annabeth frowns. No. She's missing something.

It's junk mail for a supposed phone company that doesn't exist and it ended up in her bedroom on her bed. There's something that she's not quite seeing.

Think.

She stares at the name. JACK & SONS.

JACK & SONS.

JACKSONS.

JACKSON.

Suddenly, Annabeth feels sick. Something akin to acid is scorching her insides.

No. No no no.

She looks down at the phone number.

 _No_.

But it is.

Oh, he's so smart. So, so smart. Annabeth wants to cry.

Of course.

62618.

The image of her Nokia keypad flashes across her mind.

There are so many possible variations. But this is not a coincidence.

6 – PQRS / 2 – DEF / 6 – PQRS / 1 – ABC / 8 – WXYZ

6 – **P** QRS / 2 – D **E** F / 6 – PQ **R** S / 1 – AB **C** / 8 – WX **Y** Z

 _Percy Jackson._

She looks at the note again.

She knows what the message means now. It all makes sense.

WE'VE GOT YOUR BOYFRIEND. YOU MIGHT WANT HIM BACK.

JUST CALL PERCY TO FIND OUT HOW.

REMEMBER: YOU WON'T RETURN ALIVE.

She grabs her coat and sprints out the door.

* * *

She bumps into Grover on her way up to Percy's apartment.

"Oh, hey, Lois," Grover says. He's wearing a sweater that says SAVE THE TREES and has a Rasta cap crammed over his curls, and his ropey arms are shaking slightly on his crutches. "Coming to see Percy?"

Annabeth nods.

"Sweet."

They reach the apartment in good time. Annabeth knocks, and it only takes a few seconds for the door to open.

It's Sally. When she sees Annabeth and Grover, her face splits in a warm, motherly smile. "Oh, hello! What a lovely surprise!"

"Hey, Ms Jackson," Grover says. Annabeth decides to let him do most of the talking. He's known Sally for much, much longer than she has.

"Hello, Grover," Sally says, giving him a soft, dimpled beam. "Oh, now that you're here, do tell your mother it was so, so wonderful of her to let Percy stay at your house at such short notice. Silly boy – just sent me a text about an hour ago saying that he was over at yours and was going to stay the night." She shakes her head, but it's oh so fond. "He's a spontaneous one, my Percy."

Annabeth's heart _stops_.

Grover frowns. "Uh, Ms Jackson? Percy–"

Annabeth subtly steps on his foot. "–is having a _great_ time," she finishes. She gives Grover a warning look. " _Isn't_ he, Grover?"

Grover looks terrified but he must see the desperation in Annabeth's eyes because he jerkily nods his head and squeaks out, " _Yeah_! Great!"

Sally smiles at them. "That's good. Now, what were you here for?"

Annabeth makes it all up on the spot.

"We just wanted to know if Percy was allergic to anything," she fibs. She's doing it all wrong – she's speaking too quickly and too high and too rushed – but Sally doesn't seem to notice anything. Grover does. "Because, you know. It's his birthday coming up and we want to throw him a surprise party!"

Sally looks positively delighted. "What a wonderful idea! And no, don't you worry: Percy isn't allergic to anything. However, he does have a thing about seafood – says he doesn't want to 'offend the fish', whatever that means – so I would avoid that, if I were you." She leans against the doorframe. "Is that all you needed? I've got some cookies in the kitchen, if you want to pop in."

"That's okay," Annabeth chirps before Grover can say anything. "We told Percy we were going to the grocery store – we wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

"All right, sweethearts. Have a safe journey home!"

Grover manages to snap out of his stupor long enough to mumble a, "You too, Ms Jackson" which doesn't even make any sense, and then Sally closes the door and Annabeth drags him to the elevator.

They stand in silence as it goes down. Grover looks completely terrified, and Annabeth's mind is going a hundred miles.

JACK & SONS.

NO RETURN POLICY.

PERCY.

Percy is in danger and it's all her fault.

Grover grabs her arm. "Lois, Percy isn't _at_ my house," he says worriedly.

"I know."

"Then why did you tell Sally that?"

The elevator doors slide open. Together, they walk out.

"Lois?" Grover prompts anxiously.

Annabeth thinks of the flyer under her bed. She knows what she has to do.

"Grover," she tells him urgently in a low voice. "What I'm going to say is going to sound ridiculous but you just have to trust me. Okay? Promise me that."

"Percy isn't– he isn't in _danger_ , is he?"

Annabeth almost sobs. "I–I don't know. Maybe."

"Lois, you have to tell the police. He wasn't at school today and someone told Sally that he's at my house when he's not. He's gone missing."

"Grover, _please_."

"This is serious!"

"Please, just _listen_ to me."

Grover eyes her suspiciously. "Did you do something to him?"

"What? _No_! No, don't be stupid. But– but I think I might know who did."

Grover stares at her, aghast. "Lois, you have to go the police!"

Annabeth grabs him by the arms and looks at him right in the eyes. "No police, Grover. The police can't know. This is beyond the police."

"What's going on, Lois? You're scaring me."

Annabeth sighs. "I–I can't tell you. But– you just need to do me a favour."

"Lois–"

" _Please_ , Grover."

Grover looks at her right in the eyes. He must see the urgency because after a few seconds of stifling silence he sighs. "What is it?"

"If anyone asks, Percy is at your house. Sally, Jason, Leo, _whoever_ – Percy is at your house, okay? If they want to talk to him, he's on the toilet or in the shower. But– at six-thirty, call Sally. Ask her if Percy's home. If he's not, call– call this number, okay?" Annabeth digs a pen out of her back pocket and scrawls a series of numbers across Grover's arm. "Don't ask any questions about who's on the other end. Just– tell whoever picks up that Percy is in trouble and to look under my bed."

Grover stares at the number on his arm. He looks near tears. "Lois–"

"Please."

He whimpers. "I'm scared."

Annabeth feels tears prick at her own eyes. "So– so am I. But Percy's in trouble. You need to do what I told you to. Please."

"O–okay."

"Thank you. Thank you _so much._ "

Annabeth darts off down the street. She doesn't know where she's going but she knows that it's away from here, and to get an exact location, she has to make a call.

She pulls out her phone and dials Percy's number.

It rings twice before someone picks up.

"Hello," someone unfamiliar says.

Annabeth doesn't deal with pleasantries. She cuts right to the chase. "Where the hell is he?" she demands. "I swear, if you've hurt him I will rip you limb from limb."

The person chuckles. It's cold and impersonal, like a computer, and Annabeth feels her hands begin to tremble. "You're a feisty one, Miss Chase."

 _Miss Chase._

Annabeth clothes her eyes.

The time has finally come.

"Where is he?" she asks again.

The call cuts off. Annabeth stares at the screen in shock, until a text notification pops up on her screen.

It's an address, sent from Percy's number.

She stares at the address long and hard, and then sets off.

If she's going to die, she's going to do it fighting for the boy she loves.

* * *

 **A/N Hey guys!**

 **I hope you liked that! I'm sorry I keep dragging this out, but this chapter was actually quite significant to the plot believe it or not. Next chapter is going to be 100% action (also im saying this now but you are not to hold me responsible for whatever happens next chapter do not eat me alive its all cool)**

 **Also – can I just say how absolutely incredible you all are? Like. I love you all so so much you are all absolute** _ **gems**_ **. Legit I've put all your advice in a note on my phone and I just want to give everyone a big big hug we could have a giant sleepover and paint our toenails and trade period cramp hacks**

 **literally you all are the best i love you thank you all so so much**

 **(also sidenote I MET DODIE CLARK WHAT it was so weird i was in starbucks and i was shaking and she wrote me a note and was so lovely dodie is an angel i love her so much)**

 **anyway**

 **thank you all again so much for all of your amazing amazing amazing comments i love you all and I'll see you next week! byeee xx**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

* * *

" _you were born to run but your poison tongue won't save you / cause when you play with fire it all goes up in smoke_ "  
\- fireproof, against the current

* * *

The address leads to a deserted phone warehouse.

Annabeth gets chills just looking at it. It's obviously been a long time since it was used – the windows that haven't been blacked and taped over are smashed, and the brickwork is flaky and chipping. It looks like it's on its last legs.

With old infrastructure not unlike this one, it can sometimes take only one bullet to bring down the entire thing.

She approaches it slowly. She knows that she's safe out here – despite its age, it is still on a remarkably public highway. Whoever is camping out here wouldn't be stupid enough to attack her outside, because it would be seen by around fifty drivers as well as security cameras and the speeding patrol. Annabeth glances behind her wistfully. She's been walking for around half an hour. If she wanted, she could turn back now. She could walk all the way home, curl up in bed and fall asleep.

She could stay alive.

But if she doesn't die now then Percy will. And she would give up her life in a heartbeat if it meant Percy would live until he was old.

Swallowing her fear, she walks through the doorway. The door moves easily; the wood is soft and worm-eaten, and it takes one well-placed kick to bring it down. It goes too easily. Someone has pushed it down before.

She pauses and closes her eyes.

 _I'm sorry, Chiron._

There are no working lights when she walks in. The corridor is dark and funny-smelling, like it had been drowned with bleach and then left to nature for the next five years. She moves through it silently, placing her feet carefully on the floorboards. Whoever is waiting for her here is obviously expecting her, but they didn't take Percy for the fun of it. He's leverage, bait. He's lured her here. They're going to use that as much as they can.

If she can have the element of surprise on her side, she's one rung higher than them.

However, the person seems to have quite the opposite idea.

Because the second she opens the door to what she assumes is the hall a gun sounds and suddenly she's throwing herself to the ground and watching in horror as the bullet imbeds itself into the wall where her head had been seconds ago.

 _Oh my god._

She feels sick.

"You almost killed me," she breathes, shocked.

"But I didn't."

She looks up.

Of course it is. It always was.

Brandon Lawrence stands in the centre of the room, so casually, deceptively cool. He pushes the gun into the waistband of his jeans and gives Annabeth an easy grin. He takes her expression the wrong way. "Surprised to see me?"

"Hardly."

And it's _true_. Annabeth doesn't feel the lie pulsate beneath her skin like it normally does. Instead, it rushes over her skin like a wave, like relief, because it's true, it always has been. It's surprising, certainly, because it's not every day one of your classmates asks to meet in an abandoned phone warehouse and then fires a bullet at your head, but she's not shocked. Brandon Lawrence has been an enigma the entire time Annabeth has known him, and now, finally, the pieces are falling into place.

 _That isn't the look of a teenage boy. That's the look of a terrorist._

 _There's no way he could have known her name is Chase._

 _It looks like she's not the only one undercover at Marino High._

She looks at him right in the eyes.

 _The only other possibility–_

 _No._

He's good, she'll give him that.

But she's better.

"Why did you try and shoot me?" Annabeth asks, trying to keep her voice level.

Brandon smirks. "Just making sure we didn't have any unwanted visitors."

Annabeth's eye twitches.

"Anyway." Brandon waves his hand. "Enough of this small talk. Let's get down to business."

Annabeth wastes no time. "What do you want with me?"

"What an interesting question," Brendan says. He's got a cold smile on his lips. The left corner of them is twitching a little – he's got an ugly scar running through them from his eye down to his jaw that she doesn't think she's ever seen before. She wants to rip it open. "I think you know exactly what I want, Annabeth."

Annabeth doesn't flinch. Instead, she looks at him right in the eye and says, "I wouldn't be so sure, Luke."

Brendan steps back like he's been smacked.

"How did you know?" he growls.

Something burns in Annabeth's stomach, but she doesn't let it show on her face. She had hoped she was wrong, and that Brandon was nothing more than a jerk that thought he could be dangerous. But life isn't a story, and now Annabeth is standing face-to-face with the serial killer who has chased her across the country. Ever since he left the Society she hasn't seen him. Finally he's caught up, and Annabeth knows this is where it ends.

This is the final chapter.

Someone is going to die tonight. Annabeth knows it's going to be her. She just prays she can take Luke down with her when she does.

"I couldn't be sure," she says. "Not until your reaction. But I was wondering for a while." She gives him a little smirk and taps her cheek – right where his scar is. "After all, Castellan, you can't run from the past, can you?"

"I covered it up."

"Not well. Blood sachets? Please. Oldest trick in the book. I used it myself."

Luke doesn't take well to being patronized. Never did. Annabeth smirks as she watches his lip curl.

"It was sloppy work," she says. "I'm frankly a little ashamed."

"You used it yourself, you said so."

"Yes, but I wasn't hiding from a spy, now, was I?"

Luke's face twists. He's too mature to growl or call her a name, but Annabeth knows that he wants to. He may be a spy, but she is too. He has the upper hand simply because he has a gun and also Percy – but Annabeth knows she is smarter.

If she can think her way out of this, Percy will be safe.

"You didn't figure it out," Luke says. "Not until it was too late."

"I knew you weren't called Brandon a few months back."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"Did you really expect me to? Please. I'm a professional."

"Hardly."

"I'm better than you."

Luke scowls. "Oh, _really_?"

"You couldn't do anything without killing hundreds of innocent people. This is all your fault."

" _My_ fault?" Luke laughs incredulously. "Look around Annabeth. Are you really pinning the blame on _me_? This is all my _father_!"

"For doing _what_ , Luke? For not trusting a serial killer with information that could bring the entire world down to its knees?"

"I only became what I am because he betrayed me!" Luke snarls. "It was an oath. They had all sworn that when we turned sixteen we would be entrusted with this information, and then Hermes had to go screw it all up because he sensed 'negative vibes' coming off me. Do you know how that feels, Annabeth? To be rejected by your own father?"

"Can you _blame_ him?" Annabeth cries, and Luke takes a step back in surprise. "Look around, Luke. You're a murderer. You've killed hundreds of innocent people, and all for what? To kill me?"

Luke lets out a laugh. It's cold and malicious. "Oh, Annabeth. How so very naïve you are. I never tried to kill you."

"Say that to the bomb and the train tracks you sabotaged."

Luke gives her a dead look. "I think you underestimate my intelligence, Annabeth. It's actually rather insulting."

Annabeth rolls her eyes.

"See, what you may have forgotten is that I am a spy too, and I grew up with you. I know you, Annabeth, as much as you would claim otherwise. I knew the bomb wouldn't kill you. You're awkward and uncomfortable in most social situations, although you do a good at covering it up, I will admit. You would rather push a pencil through your eyeball then take the table near the centre or near the counter. That would give people space to talk to you – and you would never want that, would you? Also, you were clearly in that bakery on a mission. The best way to Study an area is from the outside, isn't it? That's why you took the seat furthest from the counter."

He's good.

Annabeth feels herself quivering, but she's not quite sure what with. The fact that this psychopath knows her well enough to predict where she would sit shakes her to the core. Luke isn't stupid. If he got it wrong, Annabeth would be dead and he would never find the password.

He's a gambler who never loses a single game.

"What about the train?" she asks, her voice shaking. "You couldn't have possibly known I would miss it."

"See, that's where you are wrong. I could, and I did, because you're still alive. When it comes to insignificant things – like, for example, a train ticket – you have a habit of misplacing them because you deem them 'not important enough' to keep in a safe place that you'll remember. This would buy me at least one and half minutes – but I narrowed it down to one, you know, to stay on the safe side. And then it was as simple as that. I broke into the driver's house and turned his clock forward by thirty seconds. Of course you were going to miss it."

"But why?" Annabeth challenged. "What's the point of killing and injuring innocent people when it does nothing?"

"To scare you, of course. Or, more importantly, to scare Chiron. I planned it just right. I set enough traps that he would feel like you weren't safe in Georgia and send you to New York."

Annabeth heaves a sigh. "Is this where I ask how you knew it would be New York?"

Luke gives her a reptilian smirk. "Atta girl. You're catching on fast."

"Your overinflated ego is nothing new, Castellan."

Luke chooses to ignore her. "Chiron is a smart man. He wouldn't send you outside the country – it would be too risky if you _were_ to, perhaps, get in trouble, and he wouldn't be able to keep tabs on you as easily. So that narrowed it down to North America. But how I knew it would be New York? Well, that's easy. He wouldn't send you to a remote place no one's ever heard of. That's too obvious. I would have tracked you down in an instant. He moved you to New York, because, as the saying goes, 'you hide things in plain sight'."

"Los Angeles. It could have been Los Angeles."

"But it wasn't, because in LA everyone is trying to launch a career and at one point or another you'd walk past a movie set and star in an impromptu three-second cameo in the latest blockbuster or whatever. And _then_ it would be incredibly easy to track you down."

Annabeth tries to hide her panic behind a mask of calm.

Luke has gotten better. Luke has gotten much, much better.

Now she's not sure who's better. He's got a gun and he's got Percy, and he had enough confidence in himself and his ability to read people to predict where Annabeth was going to sit and when she'd misplace her train ticket to the point of risking her life and the chance of ever finding out the secrets of the Inner Circle.

She feels like she has just dropped. Luke towers over her in advantages. It's an unfair fight but they always are.

Luke is smart.

He's extremely smart. And now he's got the threat of her life and her boyfriend on the line to get what he wants.

"That means _nothing_ ," she snaps. "So what, you found me. Now what? You think I'm going to just tell you the Olympus secrets because you're waving a gun in my face?"

"I wouldn't be so cocky, Chase," he snaps. "We both know why you're here."

"Do we?"

He growls again. She revels in it. Until he brings out the final act she can be as overconfident as she wants.

"Bring him out!" Luke shouts.

 _Abracadabra_.

A chair gets pushed forward. Annabeth can't see who pushes it properly – it's too dark. However, she can see the chair, and she can see the person sitting in it. Her heart lurches when she realises it's Percy.

He looks awful. He's got a black eye and a split lip, dry blood crusted around his chin, wrists and ankles. He's been bound to the chair by barbed wire and just for that Annabeth wants to rip Luke's head off. He's not unconscious – he's wide-awake and blinking, and he looks absolutely terrified. She wishes he were unconscious. It would hurt less.

" _Lois_?" he croaks out, shocked. "Lois, why– what are you doing here?"

Annabeth keeps her face cool. She wants to run over to him and give him the biggest, hardest kiss he's ever experienced but to keep him alive she needs to act indifferent.

 _Game on._

"Aw, now isn't this adorable?" Luke coos. He turns to Annabeth with a smirk. "You haven't told him, have you?"

Percy looks lost. He squirms in the chair and Annabeth's heart positively _breaks_ when she sees him wince as the barbs cut into his wrists and ankles. "What– what are you talking about? Lois? What's going on?"

Annabeth keeps a straight face. Inside she's screaming.

"You see," Luke begins, tracing a finger down the side of Percy's face. Percy jerks away. He's trembling and looking at Annabeth in desperation and confusion. Annabeth can't look him in the eye. "It seems your girlfriend here is not who she says she is."

"I'm not his girlfriend," Annabeth snaps.

Luke laughs. "Oh, _really_?"

"I don't even know why you brought him. He's nobody special."

She sees Percy flinch. She hates herself.

Luke laughs. "The fact that you came here would beg to differ."

Annabeth snarls at him. "Unlike you, I have a heart. I didn't want to let some innocent kid die because of me."

"Lois?"

Percy sounds shattered. Behind her back, Annabeth pinches herself hard on the wrist, her nails digging in until it starts to bleed.

"What–what is he talking about? What are you talking about– what's going on?"

Annabeth doesn't look at him. If she does, she might cry. "Shut it, kid. I'm saving your life here."

Luke cackles. "Now isn't this just _precious_."

"Lois?" Percy whimpers.

"Percy, Percy, Percy." Luke circles around him once, twice. Annabeth takes in his movements. He's poised, like a leopard. She can't read anything else from him – he's a spy, too. He knows what signs show what. He's dressed as plainly and inexpressively as he could be and Annabeth hates him for that because he knows her too damn well. "I think it's time that our dear Lois does some explaining, don't you?"

"Why are you doing this, Brendan?" Percy begs. Annabeth thinks he's crying. She feels tears well up in her own heart that she instantly wills away. No. "Please. Let us go."

"Us." Luke tuts and looks at Annabeth in faux-disappointment. "My, my, Annabeth. You've certainly got him wrapped around your finger."

"Annabeth?" Percy is desperate. "Who's Annabeth? What's he talking about? Lois, what's going on?"

Annabeth counts to three. She can do this. She puts on a smirk. " _I'm_ Annabeth, Jackson."

Percy looks like he's just been smacked. "W– _what_?"

Annabeth laughs. Luke looks on, impressed. Annabeth hates herself. "I'm not Lois, Jackson. Never have been, actually." She says it so dismissively she's almost got herself convinced. "I'm not even a real brunette."

Percy keeps staring at her. He's definitely crying now. His tears cause tracks in his muddy, bloodstained cheeks and Annabeth's heart gives a little thump at it. "W– _what_? Y–you've been lying? All this time?"

"All this time."

"Even– even us?" He's straining against the ties now. It's causing him to bleed even more but he doesn't seem to notice. "You– everything between us – was that– was that fake, too?"

 _It's for his safety. It's for his safety. It's for his safety._

Annabeth despises herself nonetheless.

"Yep," she says casually.

Percy can't speak. He just stares at her through his tears. Annabeth wants to do the same, but she can't. Not now. It's almost worked.

"Oh, isn't this cute," Luke says. Annabeth glances at him. There's something about the way he's looking between them that has Annabeth's blood turning to poison – and that's only confirmed when he produces a gun from his back pocket.

Both Percy and Annabeth freeze.

"Oh, relax," Luke says to Annabeth. "I'm not going to shoot you. Yet," he adds with a smirk. When no one laughs, he scowls and crossly presses the gun into Annabeth's hand. "Here."

Annabeth's veins have solidified to ice. "I could shoot you right now, you know."

"Oh, but you won't." Luke brings out another gun and smiles at her. If that smile weren't attached to a serial killer with a killing machine in his hands, Annabeth would have called it handsome. "It's not me you're going to shoot."

Percy's breath hitches.

"You." Luke puts himself behind Annabeth and pushes her forward a little so she's standing right in front of Percy. "Are going to shoot him."

Annabeth begins to tremble. "You promised me he wouldn't get hurt."

"I did no such thing. Besides." A snake-like smile slips across his lips. "He's a nobody, remember? It shouldn't be that hard to shoot someone you don't care about. Right?"

Annabeth nods; carefully, slowly. "And if I don't?" she asks in a voice barely above a whisper.

"My, Annabeth; that should be easy." Luke clicks the gun in his hand and pushes it against her temple. "I shoot you."

* * *

"Thank you, Ms Jackson. You too."

Grover puts his phone down and then presses his hands against his temples.

Percy still isn't home.

He's properly scared now. He doesn't know to think. His best friend is missing and the only person who knows where he is is his girlfriend. Grover curses himself. He should have _demanded_ to know where he was.

 _Percy is in trouble. You need to do what I told you to._

Grover stares at the numbers on his arm. _0555-7631 – T &P _

Slowly, he picks up his phone.

* * *

Time seems suspended on a piece of dental floss. Percy stares at Annabeth. Annabeth stares at Percy. She can't shoot him. She loves him, for goodness sake. How on earth can she–

She freezes.

She _loves_ him.

It's not a big of a realization as she had originally thought. She expected it to be late at night when she realises that she's really very hopelessly in love with her English partner, because that's what all the novels she's read said it would be like. But it's not. It's not fireworks and sunshine and rainbows and that's actually okay because the fact that nothing has really changed makes her believe that maybe she was in love with him all along.

But now she's staring at him down the barrel of a gun and she's not sure what to believe.

"You lied," she says in a shaky voice. "You said I'd get him back in one piece."

"I never said that."

"It was implied."

"You should know by now that implications don't exist in our world, Annabeth."

He's right.

"I can't," she says finally. "I can't shoot him."

"You've become soft, Annabeth," Luke chides, but surprisingly he doesn't sound angry. When she hears a rustle of material, she turns around to face him in disbelief. He's tucking away his gun? "I'm not even surprised," he says. "I knew this was going to happen. You're a filthy liar, Annabeth. He _is_ important to you."

"No he's not."

"Don't even try anymore. But, I suppose I can spare his life."

Oh no.

"All you have to do," Luke says, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, " _is tell me the password_."

And it's all come back to square one.

Annabeth is torn. She wants to save Percy – no, she _needs_ to. She would willingly give up her own life in a heartbeat for his. He's got so much potential, so much to look forward to. Her? Well, she knows she's going to die young. Very few live to become old in the spy world. But if Luke shot her then he'd shoot Percy, too. He's already seen and heard too much.

...But on the other hand, Annabeth can't give up the password. It's an Olympus secret that's been passed down generations. Luke gave up that privilege when he removed himself from the Olympus family. If someone like Luke got the password to the Fate Vault then all the secret organizations of the world would crumple to their knees.

"Make your choice, Annabeth," Luke sings. "Time is ticking."

Annabeth closes her eyes.

She clicks the bullet into the chamber.

Luke's eyes flash venomously. "Are you sure you want to make that choice, Annabeth?" he threatens. He pulls the gun back out from his pocket and presses it against the base of her skull. "Don't you want to keep your boyfriend alive?"

It hurts. It hurts so, so much.

"You gave me a choice," Annabeth says through gritted teeth. "And this is my decision."

"Neither of you will escape alive."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that."

And before Luke can say anything, Annabeth aims and shoots.

It hits Percy in the arm. He cries out, his hands instinctively going to the wound but not being able to move because of the restraints. He's screaming and Annabeth knows that for a second Luke actually thought that she had hit him in the heart – and she takes that second to elbow him sharply in the stomach and roundhouse kick him in the head.

Blindly, Luke shoots. It hits the ceiling and flakes of plaster come down. Annabeth hears a cracking sound but she's too busy scampering over to Percy.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. She's not sure he can hear her. The ceiling is going to come down and it's doing it amidst a symphony of breaking beams and crumbling bricks and he is wailing his head off. She grabs the barbed wire restraints with her bare hands and tugs at them hard. They cut into her hand and she knows she's bleeding but she pulls harder and eventually they snap off. The pricks are buried deep in her palms and they're going to be absolute agony to pull out, but she knows she's going to die here and she doesn't care. As long as Percy gets out alive she'll be okay.

She'll be okay.

She rips off her T-shirt, leaving her overly exposed in just a bra, and rips it in half. She knows she's only got minutes until the building comes down and seconds – if that – before Luke finds his bearings and shoots her in the back of her head but all she can think about is _PercyPercyPercy_.

"It _hurts_!" Percy sobs.

"I know, I know, shh." Percy's going to pass out, and she'll gladly take it. Anything to stop seeing him in so much pain. It happens only moments later, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and Annabeth takes the opportunity to shove half of her T-shirt against the hole in his arm to stop the bleeding, using the other half to securely wrap it. She's moving purely on instinct, trying to remember all her medical lessons from headquarters, and they come back in fuzzy images. She hopes she's doing it right.

The ceiling lets out another alarming shriek.

Annabeth whips her head around and sees Luke pulling himself to his knees. He's got blood pouring out the corner of his mouth and blooming on the front of his T-shirt – Annabeth hopes she broke a rib or two.

"You cow," he snarls, fumbling for his gun. He's sluggish but he still shoots and it misses Annabeth's head only by a few centimetres. She feels it whip past her hair and shatter a window, and she reaches for her gun.

"Stay back," she warns, holding it up so it faces the ceiling. "Or I'll shoot and we'll all die."

Luke shoots her leg. He's not in his right space of mind but he's still wickedly good and it gets her thigh, and she crumples like a piece of paper with a howl.

There comes a crack and suddenly the whole room is filled with sawdust. Annabeth can't see Luke and she doubts Luke can see her either, but either way the ceiling is going to come down and she wants to get Percy out before it does. She's been shot before but it doesn't stop the pain from overwhelming her; somehow, she manages to stagger to her feet and grab Percy by the arm.

He's still unconscious so in order to get him out she's going to have to carry him out. She's sobbing at this point but she needs to do this. She hauls him over her shoulder and almost buckles at the weight on her injured leg, but with a gun in one hand and her boyfriend in the other she begins to drag herself to where she came from.

Every step is torture. She's losing blood and she's losing it fast, and she knows that if she manages to get out she'll pass out instantaneously. She's inhaling lungfuls of sawdust by the second and that can't be great either, but the weight of Percy on her shoulder reminds her that there's a reason she needs to get out.

Get out.

Somehow, somehow, she manages to find the door. She's not sure if Luke's still in there, but at the moment all she can think about is Percy. She staggers through the corridors and hauls herself outside, getting only a few steps out the door before hearing the screech of bricks and cement as the roof of the factory collapses. Car horns wail and several people stop in the middle of the road, getting out to gawp. Annabeth wants to swear at them, but she doesn't blame them – it's a shirtless teenage girl with a hole in her thigh and a gun in her hand dragging a boy out a deserted phone warehouse that has just crumbled. She dumps Percy on the grass and digs her phone out of jeans.

A woman screams. "Are you okay?" she shouts. "What's going on?"

"Call an ambulance," Annabeth rushes out, her words jumbling together. She's going to pass out. Not now, she tells herself. Not now. "He's called– he's called Percy. He's in my contacts. Phone his mother and an ambulance. He got shot in the arm. Please, he's– he's dying."

The woman is frozen. A man climbs out his car and yells at her. "The kid's dying, woman! Call his mother!" He's got his phone in his hand and brings it to his ear. "We need an ambulance now," he shouts down the line. "There's an injured boy and girl on the side of the road. They're bleeding out."

"No– don't– don't worry 'bout me." Annabeth pushes herself to her feet. She sways. "I'll be okay."

"Sit down and wait for the ambulance," a voice instructs. Someone is screaming and horns are blaring. Everything is in hyper speed and Annabeth feels sick. She lurches and vomits.

"LOIS!"

Hazily, Annabeth blinks her eyes open. Thalia and Piper are running down the road – an ambulance is coming from the other direction. She can't see it, just hear it – her vision has gone slightly sideways. She doesn't think it's meant to be like that.

"Thalala," she says, giggling a little. Thalala. That should be her new name. It sounds prettier then Tilly– wait, no, it's Tabitha, isn't it? Or is Taylor?

"Excuse me," someone says. "No one past this point."

" _Quick, quick, quick! Get the stretchers! Now_!"

"That's my best friend!" a voice screeches. "Let me through!"

"Ma'am–"

" _He's losing blood_!"

" _Get out the way_!"

"Let me go, that's my _friend_ –"

" _Why isn't the girl on a stretcher yet? MOVE IT_!"

"No–" Annabeth tries to say. "Don't – me..."

"Let me _through_! _LOIS_!"

Is Percy okay?

Percy. Peeerrrrccccyyyy. Annabeth giggles.

"Percy."

She feels herself being lifted up and her jeans being cut off. Someone swears and suddenly there are hands pressing at the bullet wound on her thigh and she screams, a gargling noise that breaks and crumples at her lips into a sob.

"Percy."

"Percy's okay, sweetheart," a voice says. "Can you see me? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Where's Percy?" Annabeth demands.

"Percy's fine–"

"I want to see Percy!"

"Fingers, sweetie. How many?"

"I don't care, where's _Percy_?"

" _Let me through_!"

Suddenly, Annabeth has a headful of curls in her face and a pair of slim brown arms around her neck and it's Piper, soft, familiar, Piper, and she almost bursts into tears at the feeling of home again.

"Piper," Annabeth sobs.

"She's delirious," she hears someone explain. "She's not called Piper."

"It hurts, Piper."

"I know, it's okay, breathe for me."

"Step aside. You're making it worse."

"Leave me _alone_!"

An ambulance wails in the distance and Annabeth's eyes roll to the back of her head.

* * *

A **/N so um**

 **before you all kill me**

 **THANKS FOR 300 REVIEWS GUYS WHAT**

 **Like i physically cannot believe this this is just so so cool. thank you to absolutely everyone who has commented onthis story ever for helping me make it this far, i love you all so so much far beyond words you guys are the loveliest kindest most amazing people ever ahhhhhhhh**

 **okay so as tradition goes time to give some thank-yous:**

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	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

* * *

" _someday, when you are further, i'll take a deep breath and i'll grow stronger_ "  
\- paint me black, ben hazlewood and mali-koa hood

* * *

"Hey, sweetie. Can you hear me?"

Annabeth groggily tries to blink her eyes open, and immediately recoils at the bright white lights overhead. Where is she? She tries to roll over but she can't, and is instead hit by a wave of excruciating pain. Panic wells up in her chest. What's going on?

"Hey, hey, shh," the voice says, and Annabeth screws up her face in agony as she tries to open her eyes as again. The lights are too bright for Annabeth to make out anything than a dark blob hovering over her. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe. You're in the hospital. You were in a wee bit of an accident. Can you breathe for me, love? In, out, like me."

Hospital. Accident.

Suddenly, everything comes flooding back.

"There we go. Deep breaths. See, you're doing it!"

Annabeth breathes heavily through her mouth to stop herself from having a panic attack. There's still so much that her brain hasn't yet caught up with and she's learnt that in order to understand she'll have to sift through it and process it, sorting it into boxes so that it's easier to comprehend.

She hasn't even begun to think about what happened. She doesn't want to.

And she can't know. Especially is a hospital. She needs to get out of here as soon as she can. If she started screaming she's pretty she would be certified at least another week for severe trauma and psychological damage.

The light gets easier to bear now, and when Annabeth blinks her eyes open properly she can finally make out the person leaning over the bed. She's got a soft, kind face with green eyes and a long brown ponytail, and she's wearing a blue nurse's robe.

"Hey, Lois," she says warmly. "How are you feeling?"

Annabeth nods. "I'm okay."

"Is your leg hurting?"

It is, and it's hurting like hell, but Annabeth doesn't flinch. "Only a tiny bit."

"Good, that's good." The woman smiles and pushes some of Annabeth's hair out of her face. "Can I ask you some questions now or do you want to wait a bit?"

"Um. Wait, if that's okay."

"Of course." The woman stands up. "I need to go to attend to some other patients, but if you need anything just press this button" – she pointed to a button on the side of the bed – "and we'll send a nurse straight up. Is that okay?"

Annabeth nods.

"Wonderful. Don't be afraid to push it, Lois. If your leg hurts, if you need some water – anything."

Annabeth's mouth is dry. She swallows. "Thank you."

"It's okay, hon. I'll be back in around an hour. Do try and get some sleep – you've had a tough few days."

Annabeth presses her lips together in what she hopes is a sort of the smile, and the nurse walks out of the room. She watches her as she goes; her hair has been pulled back immaculately, but there are stray hairs hanging around the base of her neck and it is beyond greasy. Her wedding ring is skew, and she had bags under her eyes.

Annabeth closes her eyes. She knows it's because of her.

It's not every day you get two teenagers rushed to hospitals with bullet wounds.

But right now she needs to focus, because also right now she needs to get out of here.

With a groan, she tries to sit up. Her leg is has been wrapped up in bandages, and it feels like hell. She's not sure if they've taken the bullet out yet, but either way there is a hole in her leg and judging by the way the window shows nothing but blue skies she's going to have to swallow her pain and climb two storeys down with it.

So, you know. Fun.

She swings her legs over the edge of the bed. She's remarkably exposed, in just a hospital gown that shows a lot more of her back than she would have liked (she also notices that upon sitting up she is not wearing a bra, and she's not sure if it's the thought of someone cutting her overpriced bra off of her or the thought that she's going to climb down a building with zero support that sickens her), but she's going to be even more exposed when the nurses come back in and ask for guardianship, medical and legal details if she doesn't man up right now.

She grabs onto the bedpost and heaves herself up. She's in so much pain she feels like she's going to pass out, but she grits her teeth and bites back tears.

"Come on, Beth," she tells herself crossly. "You can do this."

Swallowing her pain, she hobbles over to the window and heaves it open, peering outside. She's on the second floor, but the drop doesn't seem to drastic, thank goodness. She won't be able to just jump, though, especially not with an injured leg. She bites her lip and turns to look at her gurney.

Well. Here goes nothing.

She ties her bed sheets together into one big rope, securing the end of it against the gurney leg. It won't hold at all, because the gurney has wheels, but it's wider and longer than the window so until Annabeth's weight bends it in half it'll have to do.

She considers tying the other end of the blankets around her waist, and then considers how terribly that could go.

With a deep breath, she nervously twists the bed sheets in her hands. She wasn't the best rope-climber back at the Society for nothing. She _can_ do this.

She lifts herself onto the windowsill with a grunt of agony. The cast is so big and clunky it's almost impossible to wrestle herself out of the window without completely toppling to the ground, so with a frustrated sigh she drags the gurney over so she can haul herself on top of that and then delicately slide onto the sill. She sits there for a few moments, her hands becoming slippery with sweat. She wipes them down her nightgown.

"Think of Chiron," she says aloud. "Think of Thalia and of Piper and of the Society. You can get out of here. You've done it before. I believe in you, Beth."

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't make her feel much better.

Whatever. She's a badass. This should be nothing.

Hesitantly, and with her hands tight around the blanket, she starts sliding off the windowsill. The gurney jolts against the window frame, bracing against the walls on both sides, and Annabeth only hopes it holds. Her cast is weighing her down. She's been able to climb ropes with bowling balls tied around her ankles but so little time spent on training has weakened her – not by much, but by enough for her to probably only be able to hold herself, and not an extra ten pounds of bandages.

She closes her eyes and thanks heavens that her room is stationed around the back of the hospital, near the staff car park, so no one can see her. It's a hell of a relief. At least if she dies she won't mortally scar any innocent children.

Slowly, carefully, she begins to lower herself.

She doesn't go hand-by-hand. Instead, she just lets herself slip. Her arms have locked in position, her elbows bent, keeping her from becoming completely flaccid and useless and crashing to the ground. It's a shock reflex. Sometimes pain can become so unbearable that you'll freeze, and she's relying on solely that to keep her from dying.

The sweat from her hands slowly moves her downwards. She closes her eyes and hears her heartbeat slam in her chest.

It doesn't take any more than five minutes but to her it feels like a lifetime, and when her feet touch the ground she collapses. She's shaking, she realises, she's shaking all over, and the pain in her leg is so bad she can't even pick herself up off the ground. Instead, she just sits there, in her flimsy hospital gown, her hands scrubbed red and raw and her leg wrapped in a massive cast, and she starts to cry.

She sits there for what seems like forever.

And then suddenly, a big black van comes out of nowhere.

Instinctively, she freezes. She's sitting at the edge of the staff car park – this must be someone who works at the hospital. And it really doesn't look good for her, because she's wearing a surgery gown, has a bandage around her entire leg, and also there's a rope of bed sheets dangling from her window, fluttering in the wind.

She pushes herself up, even though her leg flares with pain. She's ready to run if she needs to.

However, something odd happens. Instead of the van finding a spot to park, it drives so it's right in front of her. Annabeth watches it warily – but then something in her chest swells when the door slides open and a woman dressed all in black comes out.

Annabeth eyes her suspiciously.

The woman walks up to her. "Hey," she says in a soft voice. "Are you Agent Chase?"

 _Agent Chase._

She hasn't been called that in a very long time. Annabeth's eyes well with tears, and she nods.

The woman smiles. "I work at the Society," she says warmly. "We thought you might need some help."

Annabeth stares at her pathetically. "How did you know where I was?" she asks, her voice wavering. She thinks she's going to cry.

The woman's lips twitch, and she taps the back of her head. "A tracking device."

Annabeth flashes back to her first conversation with Piper in the kitchen all those months ago, and suddenly everything just seems suffocating. She nods, too overwhelmed to say anything.

"What would you say about heading back?" the woman asks softly.

Annabeth lets her tears spill. "Yes, please," she whispers.

She knows that this is it. She's not going back to Marino. She's not going back to the Pat-Pad. She's never going to see Hazel again, or Leo, or Frank, or–

She whimpers.

The woman helps her into the van, sweeping her off her feet bridal-style to carry her into it because of her injury. It takes Annabeth's eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness from the tinted windows, but when she sees Piper and Thalia sitting at the back, Piper still in her uniform and Thalia in her pajamas, she completely breaks down.

The woman stations her in between them, and Thalia puts her head on her shoulder and Piper grips her hand and through their silence they comfort her with just their presence. The van starts to move, and, with a hole in her thigh and her two best friends on either side of her, she drives away from the boy she loves.

* * *

Annabeth waits outside Chiron's office.

She doesn't really know how she feels yet. She's still waiting for feelings to return, if she's being honest. They haven't arrived yet.

The past two months have been a blur. She doesn't want to pick through them, because they've all been jumbled up like spaghetti, but somewhere between arriving back and reuniting with all her old recruits she wakes up one day and realises she hasn't felt anything for a while. She'll smile and laugh when Piper and Thalia visit her in the sick bay and she'll nod her head _yes_ and shake her head _no_ when nameless people in long white lab coats ask if she's in any pain or if she needs an extra pillow, but she hasn't really _felt_.

It kind of sucks.

Piper sits next to her. "How you feeling?" she asks gently.

"Okay."

"Chiron wants to see you. I can tell him no if you want."

"No, I'll see him."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Piper helps Annabeth to her feet. She'll be on crutches for the next few months, which kind of sucks, but at least she didn't die. That's an upside, she reckons.

Chiron is sitting at his desk when Annabeth limps in. He gives her a soft smile as she lowers herself into a chair opposite him and closes the book he's reading.

"How are you, Annabeth?" he asks gently.

"I've been better. I'm okay, though."

"That's good."

"More questions?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

Everything's been okay lately. Just okay.

It's been boring and beige and okay and because okay isn't _bad_ that's a good thing.

"Can you explain to me what happened?" Chiron asked.

"I told you. Luke made me choose between shooting Percy and telling him the Olympian secrets. I chose shooting Percy but I shot him in the arm. Luke shot me in the leg and I broke his ribs. I dragged Percy outside and we both passed out."

It helps when telling it in staccato. Annabeth has learnt to become indifferent about these things when you detach yourself completely.

Chiron looks her in the eye. "Is that all?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"I promise."

Annabeth doesn't tell him how when she was pointing the gun at Percy's chest she realised she was in love.

"Annabeth," Chiron says softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Answer me honestly, Annabeth. You can talk to me."

Annabeth stares Chiron's shoulder. "I'm okay."

"Okay is not 'good'."

"It's not 'bad' either."

"Annabeth, talk to me."

Annabeth picks at a jagged piece of wood on Chiron's desk. "I'm okay."

"You're not, though."

She sighs and looks at him. "I promise. I'm just– tired."

Chiron doesn't look convinced but he gives a soft smile anyway. "Okay."

Annabeth nods. "Okay."

"You're dismissed, Miss Chase. Take it easy, all right?"

"I will."

Annabeth hauls herself out of her seat and starts limping towards the door. However, just before she's about to leave the room, Chiron calls, "Miss Chase."

Annabeth turns around.

He links his fingers. "You realise you have suffered severe trauma, don't you?" he asks.

Annabeth swallows. Her tongue is dry with words she can't say. "Yeah."

"Talk to someone about it, Miss Chase. I understand you have a reason for not going into detail and I don't blame you. I will certainly not push you any further than what you are comfortable with. But– don't keep this bottled up. It is not healthy, nor is it safe for your mental health. Talk to someone. Piper. Thalia. Anyone. Promise me that, Miss Chase."

Annabeth looks at this old man with old eyes, sitting behind an old desk in an old wheelchair that squeaks too much because of old legs that don't work anymore. She looks at him right in the eyes and thinks about how many students he's seen been driven crazy by psychopaths who stalked their dreams, how many students walked out of the door and didn't come back. When she speaks next, it feels like a promise.

"I will," she says.

Chiron nods. "Have a lovely evening, Annabeth."

He doesn't call her Annabeth a lot. Annabeth gives him a sort of smile, the first genuine one in a while.

"You too, Chiron."

And then she's gone.

Piper and Thalia are playing Monopoly when Annabeth hobbles into their room.

"Ha!" Thalia shouts, pointing down at the board. "You owe me one thousand, sucker! Pay up!"

Piper grumbles as she shoves the money into Thalia's waiting hands. "That's not fair."

"Ahh." Thalia flaps the money against her nose. "The smell of victory is sweet."

Piper pulls a hideous face at her.

"Hey, guys," Annabeth says, collapsing on her bed.

"Hey, Annabeth," Thalia says distractedly. "Pipes, do you own Mayfair yet?"

Piper ignores her and gives Annabeth a warm, concerned smile. "How was it?" she asks. "What did Chiron say?"

"He just asked me some questions."

Thalia pulls a face. "I'm sorry, Beth. That sucks."

"Yeah. I guess. It's all right."

"Not really," Piper says. She abandons her spot at the board and throws herself next to Annabeth, wriggling up until her nose is pressed against the warm space between her shoulder and her collarbone. "I'm sorry, Annabeth."

"It's okay."

"Piper, I rolled for you," Thalia says. "You landed on Oxford Street. Pay up."

Piper shuffles around and sticks her tongue out. "I quit."

Thalia gapes at her. "What? But I was _winning_!"

"Boo hoo."

Thalia rolls her eyes. "Boo hoo," she mimics, crossly throwing her money in the centre of the board. "I'll shove a boo hoo up your–"

"Anyway," Piper says loudly. She looks at Annabeth with wide eyes. "Are you gonna crash here? We can get out if you want."

"No, you guys stay. Thalia, come join us."

"I don't want to be anywhere near _her_."

"Thalia."

"Fine. Piper, you stay away, you big fat sore loser."

"It was _Monopoly_ , Thalia!"

"Yes, and I was almost winning. You don't understand. She was on the brink of bankruptcy!"

Piper rolls her eyes. "Come cuddle us."

"I will." Thalia clambers on the bed and tucks herself up against Annabeth's other side. "Move up, Chase, I'm not a matchstick."

Obediently, Annabeth shuffles herself a little and Thalia wriggles around so her leg is thrown over Annabeth's hip and Piper's thighs and her hand is absently twirling one of Annabeth's curls. It's not very comfortable because the three of them are skin, bone and not much else, and Thalia smells of sweat and Piper is wearing a long dangly necklace that is pressing awkwardly into Annabeth's stomach, but it's them and Annabeth wants to stay here forever.

With, you know, maybe one other person.

Speaking _of_.

"I need your help," she says against Piper's head.

"There's a chute down the left side of the building," Thalia says. "You can put the body there. It goes straight into the bins. Just make sure to put lots of raw meat and rotten vegetables in afterwards to cover the bloodstains and the corpse."

"Not to hide a body, Thalia."

"Oh. Well, that's boring."

"What is it?" Piper mumbles.

"I'm going to meet Percy tomorrow, and I need you guys to help me sneak out."

Thalia stares at her. "What? Is that a good idea?"

"Probably not."

"Does he know?" Piper chirps.

"No. I–I need to talk to him about some stuff."

"You can't tell him you're a spy, though," Piper says, shifting so her chin is resting on Annabeth's ribcage. "You know that, right?"

"I–I wasn't planning on it. I just– I have to do, this. You get that, right?"

Thalia hums against her shoulder. "Yeah."

They lay in silence for a while.

"It's just– the last memory he has of me is me pointing a gun at his face," Annabeth whispers. "I don't want that for him. For us. There's not even an us anymore but– I just _need_ to."

"You don't tell us," Thalia says quietly. "Not if you don't want to."

"No, I need– I need to." Annabeth sighs. Piper reaches out and laces their fingers together. "Luke – he made me choose. You know that. He gave me a gun and told me that either I could tell him the password and he would let us go free or I could shoot Percy, and if I didn't he would shoot _me_. But– you don't get it. There was– there was a moment where I almost– I almost _told_ Luke the password."

"Oh, Annabeth," Piper whispers.

Annabeth lets out a sort of hysterical laugh. "I realised then that I was in love with Percy," she says. She thinks she might cry. "Right then. When I had a gun pointed to his head ready to blow his brains out, that's when I thought to myself, I think I love him. And – and it hurt. It hurt so badly, you don't understand. I don't– I don't even know if Percy's okay. I could have ruined him. He's a swimmer. He's– he's really good and I could have killed that, I could have destroyed something and he might never be able to swim again and it'll be all my fault. And I still love him, you know? But he hates me now; he _has_ to. He almost got killed. I almost _got_ him killed by a psychopath with a gun. You don't know how hard it is. I– I don't want to be a spy anymore. I hate it all. But I can't do anything about it, can I?"

Piper squeezes her hand.

Annabeth closes her eyes. "I need to see him one last time. Just to say sorry."

Thalia looks at her with round, owlish eyes. Sometimes Annabeth forgets just how intense Thalia's eyes can be. "You love him a lot, huh?" she says softly.

Annabeth swallows. "Yeah."

Thalia nods. "I'm so sorry, kid."

"It's all right."

"No, it isn't. And because of that we're going to help you get back your man."

Annabeth tries for a smile. She's crying a bit but she doesn't mind. This is the first time she's felt something for two months.

"Thanks," she whispers, and when Piper hums against her ribs and Thalia blows cool air against the skin behind her ear she knows they hear the sincerity in her voice.

* * *

 **hey guys!**

 **sorry this one was a tad boring and probably a little dull BUT i feel like this kind of had to happen because i need to show annabeth's recovery (because, like. she had to shoot her boyfriend and also got shot and was confronted by a serial killer it is a bit much) so yeah i hope you liked it!**

 **okay**

 **now**

 **let's talk about how FANTASTIC you guys are**

 **your comments were all so beautiful! thank you thank you thank you i love you guys so so much your reviews were like the best things ever and i cried at like all of them literally thank you all so much for the amazing feedback! also none of you seemed to want me dead that much so that's also a plus**

 **as always credit where it's due thank you to my girls Helena and Rachel aka The Best People Ever for being so wonderful and amazing and also to my gal Mariam for just being blimming amazing i love you guys xxxxxxxxxxx**

 **(Also my sister wanted to say hi:**

 _Hey guys, this is India, Mias sister and manager – or as i like to call it her sisager, also she doesn't think she has a manager but i know the truth! Anywho, ciaozers y'all!_

 **yes that was her i cant believe i let her write that)**

 **anyway! i hope you guys all have a wonderful week! please tell me what you thought and i'll see you guys all next Saturday! byeee xxxxx**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

* * *

" _if you love me let me go_ "  
\- this is gospel, panic! at the disco

* * *

"Everything is slippery and wet," Piper declares. "I've officially given up."

"We haven't even put the bleach in yet."

"Exactly. And I'm done."

Annabeth appreciates Thalia and Piper. She really does.

Except now they're being right _pains_.

She's trying to bleach her hair from brown back to blonde. When Annabeth had asked Chiron if he could buy some bleach for her, he had kindly suggested maybe letting the brown hair dye either wash or grow out to avoid doing any more damage to her hair, but Annabeth was adamant. She wants to scrub Lois right off of her. She never wants to see Lois ever again. And to do that, it's back to blonde.

"This is not a smart idea, Annabeth," Piper advises mildly. "Your hair is going to be so fried it's ridiculous."

"I got Lou-Ellen to buy me a bunch of quality shampoos and conditioners. The ones that are supposed to 'treat' and 'heal' damaged hair."

"They don't work."

"At this point I don't even care. I just want to be Annabeth again."

"I mean, fair enough," Thalia says.

Piper glares at hair. "You be _quiet_."

"What?"

"You're not the one with your hands balls deep in bleach."

"You're acting as if you've never bleached hair before," Annabeth tells her. "Which you have."

"Yeah, but it's difficult. And my hands feel weird."

"You're wearing gloves."

"Still."

"You do realise your hair isn't going to be properly blonde," Thalia tells her. "It's going to be white."

"I do realise that, yes. But white is closer to blonde than brown."

Thalia watches her, her head tilted. "You really want to go back to Annabeth, huh."

"I'm just so sick of Lois. And I'm meeting Percy today. I've lied to him enough." She nods firmly at herself in the mirror. "I'm showing him Annabeth. I don't care about anything anymore. I'm done with lying."

No one says anything for a while. Thalia sits in the bathtub suckling at a lollipop, while Annabeth perches on the toilet seat with Piper brushing bleach onto her hair. Everything smells of coconut oil, which Piper insisted she apply before the bleach ("to avoid completely burning your hair off your head," she had claimed) and Annabeth watches herself in the mirror as gradually the brown of her hair disappears.

Finally, Piper pats her head. "You're good to go."

"How long do I have to keep this in for?"

"Around half an hour. Then I have to tone it."

"Cool."

Annabeth takes the raincoat off from where she had draped it around her shoulders to avoid ruining her T-shirt. Piper twists her wet hair up into a bun and then snaps a shower cap over it, and then Thalia squashes up in the bath so Annabeth can wiggle in next to her.

"How are you feeling, pal?" she asks, rubbing her shoulder.

Annabeth nods. "Okay."

"You sure? How long has it been, two months?"

"Three."

"Three."

"It's gonna be okay, Beth," Piper promises, rubbing her leg. "I swear."

"I hope so."

"How's your leg, by the way?" Thalia asks.

"It's good."

"You still need crutches, though."

"Yeah."

Piper gives her a disapproving look. "That means you bring them with you."

"Yeah, yeah. Of course."

"Don't give me that, Annabeth. Promise me."

Annabeth smiles at her and squeezes her hand. "I promise I'll take my crutches."

* * *

Spoiler: she doesn't.

* * *

Annabeth feels like she's going to throw up.

Which is chill. Totally chill. You know. Just a tad nerve-wracking.

She knows that the chances of someone from Marino recognising her are very, very slim, but as she walks down the road towards her old school she still feels an irrational sense of anxiety. She hasn't been here in so long – in fact, the last time she was here she was a completely different person.

She left as Lois and is now returning as Annabeth. It's more than a little bit terrifying.

She has to limp as she moves. Despite having the bullet removed from her leg more than three months ago, her leg still hurts. Probably always will, too, as if she needed yet another reminder of one of the worst days of her life. But she couldn't bring her crutches because sneaking out of a spy base wielding two clumsy sticks isn't really that subtle at all.

Besides, it's some sort of physiotherapy, right? She's exercising her muscles, you know. Getting them working.

She can already hear Chiron scream at her.

Annabeth has timed this perfectly. She knows that she won't be able to sneak in the building during school hours, so she decided to wait until the day was over. And she's done it perfectly. She's only a few metres away when the doors open and kids start to spill out, at first a huge flood of the ones who want to get home immediately, and then a slow trickle of the rest of the school as they idly meander down the steps to their bus stops.

Annabeth is so wrapped in the feeling of nostalgia and sickness at seeing her old school that she doesn't pay attention to where she's going and accidentally bumps into someone.

"Oh!" the person exclaims. "I'm so sorry."

"No, don't–" Annabeth's voice dies in her throat when she looks up at none other than Hazel Levesque. Hazel is smiling politely at her, her dark cheeks dimpling on one side, but there's no familiarity in her eyes. She's talking to a stranger and Annabeth feels her chest constrict. She swallows. "Don't worry," she finishes lamely. "It was my fault."

Hazel beams at her, a wide easy smile that makes Annabeth's heart ache, and then heads around her and starts to walk off. Annabeth almost calls after her, but then she thinks better.

She doesn't deserve Hazel's friendship anymore, not after all this time she's lied to her. Hazel is part of a life that died the second she climbed out of that hospital window, and she's going to have to accept that in order to get rid of Lois Watermann she's going to have to get rid of Hazel too.

She blinks back tears as she watches her walk away.

 _Come on, Annabeth_ , she thinks. _Get it together, girl. You're so close now_.

She takes a deep breath and then turns back to look at Marino. She can spot so many faces – Drew, Nancy, Silena, Frank, Leo – and it's almost enough to set her off again but then she catches sight of Percy and everything crumples.

He's talking to Jason Grace, leaning against the wall. His hair is longer and shaggier and he has shadows under his eyes, and his arm is in a loose foam sling that Annabeth knows means it's almost completely healed, but he's laughing and smiling like he doesn't have a care in the world.

But he does, and Annabeth can see it in the way he moves, and the way he accidentally jars his shoulder and winces. Just like her leg, his arm will always be a bit funny for the rest of his life. It'll always be a reminder of her and she hates herself for it.

Slowly, she walks up the steps towards him.

No one stops her. She doesn't think anyone cares. It's the end of the day. Everybody just wants to go home.

She waits a safe distance behind Percy until he finishes talking to Jason. Jason waves him off and starts heading off, and Percy is just about to follow before Annabeth kicks any sense she has to the back of her mind, stumbles after him and puts her hand on his shoulder.

Instinctively, he squares up, but when he turns to look at her his eyes soften. He doesn't recognise her.

She's not sure if that's a good thing or not.

"Um, hey," he says, a little uncertainly.

"Hi," she says. "Percy, right?"

She says it like she's not sure. As if she could forget.

Please.

Percy's eyes turn confused. He turns to face her properly, shouldering his bag. "Uh, yeah."

"Can I talk to you for a second? If that's okay?"

He looks a little surprised. "Um. Sure."

"Cool."

Percy hesitates. "Hey, sorry, uh– do I know you?"

Now or never, Annabeth.

She knows he's expecting her to say no and introduce herself. But he does know her. Better than he thinks. "Um, yeah, actually."

Percy seems a little taken aback. She sees him look over her platinum hair, her grey eyes, and then falter when he can't think of a name to match.

This could be her way out. But it's not, because she knows she needs to do this.

Behind her back, she digs her thumbnail so hard into her palm she starts to bleed.

"Lois?" she says softly. "Lois Watermann?"

And that's when she sees it hit him.

His whole body stiffens and his eyes shut down, like the curtains have been drawn. He goes rigid and takes a step backwards, clenching the strap between his hands so tightly his knuckles go white. The worst thing is that he _knows_ that it's her. He knows it's not a joke. As soon as she tells him, she sees him zero in on her face as a whole and mentally add cheekbones here, a squarer jaw there, and realise that this the girl who got him put in hospital, and Annabeth is filled with self-hatred.

"No," he snaps coldly. "No, I don't want anything to do with you."

Annabeth feels her heart break in two. But she's not come all this way for him not to listen.

"Percy, please–"

"Stay away from me!"

" _Listen_ to me–"

He whirls on her, his eyes furious. "Listen to _what_ , Lois? What on earth do you have to say that will justify what you did?"

"How about you shut up and let me tell you?"

He looks surprised. Annabeth is not afraid to bring out her claws.

But as quickly as that happens, his expression closes again. He turns away, and starts to walk off. "No. I never want to see you again."

"Will you just _listen_ to me?"

"You shot me in the _arm_!"

"It was either that or the heart, Percy. So if you would just shut up for a second and let me explain then maybe you'll see why."

She's stunned him into silence. She grips her elbows tightly as she waits for his response. It could be anything. He could accept or he could turn her away, and she'd have to let him. She can't force him to do anything.

She holds her breath.

Percy sighs. "Fine," he says coldly. "Fine, we'll talk, whatever."

He's harsh and firm and it hurts but Annabeth knows she deserves it.

"Thank you," she says softly.

He doesn't say anything.

They walk to the back of the school. Annabeth wants to do nothing more than to reach out and take his hand, lace their fingers, maybe press up against his side so he would wrap his arm around her waist, but she knows she can't because she lost that privilege a while back. Instead, they just walk a safe distance apart.

Percy seems to notice her limp. He presses his lips together. "You're walking funny," he says quietly.

"Hm?" Annabeth had almost forgot. "Oh, um. Yeah."

"The news said you got shot, too."

"Yeah."

They don't say anything until they find a bench. They sit at opposite ends.

"So." Annabeth uncomfortably stretches her leg. Her thigh throbs a little and she presses down against it, as if trying to smother the pain out. Naturally, it doesn't work. Percy sees her doing it and she stops. "Um. You probably have some questions."

"Understatement of the year."

His tone is unkind. Annabeth hates herself.

"What do you want to know?" she asks, trying to keep her voice level.

He sighs. "Oh, _I_ don't know. How about the reason for almost a whole year you had the whole school convinced you were called Lois, then suddenly you get me kidnapped, shoot me, disappear for three months and then reappear out of the blue with blonde hair and grey eyes?"

Annabeth flinches at his tone. He's angry. He's really angry.

She doesn't blame him. She's kind of angry at herself, too.

"Goodness," she says in a weak voice. "Um. Where to start."

Percy's jaw tightens.

She sighs and closes her eyes. "Before this, I lived in Georgia," she says in a quiet voice. "But then I was put in danger, so to keep me out of harm's way I got relocated to New York."

Percy watches her. Annabeth can't look at him.

"So you became Lois," he says.

"Yeah."

"You lied to me."

"I had to."

"Not to me you didn't."

"I had a psychopath on my trail, Percy. If I had told anyone who I was and it got out he could have tracked me down within minutes."

"But he did anyway."

She sighs. "Yeah."

"Brandon."

"His name is Luke."

Percy swallows. "Right, so he was undercover, too."

"Kind of."

"Anyone else? The headteacher, perhaps? Leo? Hazel?"

Annabeth clenches her jaw at his tone. "This isn't a joke, Percy."

"No, it's not. I just want to know how many other people lied to me."

"I didn't know about Brandon. Not at first."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Percy–"

"What about Tess? Georgina? Agatha? Were they undercover, too?"

His voice is nasty. Just for that, Annabeth decides not to tell him Georgina and Agatha are the same person. Don't worry, she knows how petty that is too.

She closes her eyes. "Yeah."

Percy throws up his hands. "Well, fantastic."

"They were looking after me."

"Looking after you or looking after Lois?"

He's hit the nail on the head. She flinches.

He notices and sighs. "Sorry."

"No. No, it's okay." She shrugs helplessly. She thinks her eyes are beginning to get a little wet again, and internally she swears because she's been doing far much crying recently. "I mean, you're not wrong."

Percy presses his lips together. They're quiet for a while.

Then: "Are you undercover now?" he asks softly.

Annabeth shakes her head. "No, um. This is me."

Percy watches her closely. She sees him properly take in the new shape of her face, the way her lips curve, the colour of her hair and eyes, the way everything is sharper and pointier about her.

Which she's always kind of hated. She wishes he'd stop looking at her nose. She _knows_ it's weird, all right.

"What's your real name?" he asks.

She could get killed for telling him this. She doesn't particularly care.

"Annabeth," she says. "Annabeth Chase."

Annabeth Chase.

It feels good to say out loud.

"Annabeth," Percy says. It sounds nice coming out of his mouth, and Annabeth closes her eyes because in an alternate universe they'd still be together but instead of Lois she would have always been Annabeth to him. "It's a beautiful name."

Annabeth smiles wistfully at him. "Thanks."

"It's okay." Percy tries for a smile, too, but it doesn't come out right, and he starts wringing his hands together. "Um, also," he ventures. "Can– can I ask why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you in danger? What did Bra– _Luke_ , sorry, want so badly? Why–" He pauses. "Why did you shoot me?"

This was the question she hadn't wanted to answer. She chews on her lip.

"I– I can't tell you that," she says finally.

"It's the least you owe me."

He's right.

She sighs and crosses her ankles. She uncrosses them a moment later. "I know some stuff," she says after a while. "Important stuff. Think Government secrets. It would be awful if any of it got into the wrong hands. The world could be tipped upside down if someone who wasn't an ally got hold of it. Well. Luke wanted it. He should have got it but he didn't and now he wanted it because he claimed it was 'rightfully his', and he knew the only way he'd get it was off me. So he must have followed me here. Used you as my bargaining chip."

"He took me to get to you?"

"Yeah. Fun times, you know."

"So–" Percy swallows and looks at his arm. "That's why you shot me?"

"He thought I had shot you in the heart. I kicked him down before he realised."

"But he shot you too."

"Yes. Well. That." She picks at her cuticles. "Turns out broken ribs can't keep him down for long."

"You broke his ribs?"

"I've done a lot worse than that."

Percy's mouth opens in surprise, but he doesn't say anything. She's said too much anyway. It's better if he doesn't ask. Otherwise she's going to have to explain all those other times, like a couple years back when she almost got hit by a moving train but sabotaged the tracks within seconds so it would change lanes and miss her.

That was fun. She kind of misses that.

Neither of them say anything after that. Annabeth knows Percy has much more he wants to ask and she has a lot more to say but she can't, because she knows there's an invisible line with spies about what you can and can't tell. She's already overstepped it by miles. She can't afford to say anything more – even though she so desperately wants to.

"Will I see you again?" Percy asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Annabeth shakes her head. See, now she's starting to cry again. She widens her eyes and looks up at the sky to try and stop her tears from spilling. "No," she says. "Um. I leave for Oklahoma in the morning."

"Oh." He swallows. "So. I guess this is goodbye, then."

A tear runs down her cheek. Crossly, she wipes it away.

"Yeah," she says. "I guess."

Percy nods.

She stands up, and so does he. Her leg aches as she puts weight on it, and as she looks in his eyes she remembers what happened all those months ago, what ended their relationship in the first place. She's kind of glad her leg still hurts. If it didn't when she looked up at him she would have forgotten they had never broken up and kissed him.

Annabeth knows she has to separate herself from this goodbye, or she'll never be able to leave.

"Well." She scuffs her trainer against the ground. "Um. Goodbye, I guess."

Percy gives a small nod. "Yeah."

There's still so much she wants to say. But she can't.

He shoulders his backpack and starts to walk away.

And Annabeth is so, so weak.

"Percy, wait," she says desperately.

Percy turns around. Annabeth thinks she's going to start to cry.

"Look," she says, her voice trembling. "I know– I know you don't owe me anything. I'll forever be in your debt, for– for everything I've put you through." She swallows, and it burns as it goes down, a solid lump in her throat. "Um. But, um– I was wondering–"

She doesn't finish her sentence. She can't.

But Percy seems to know what she means. He always has. He takes three big strides towards her, takes her face into his good hand and kisses her.

It's nothing big or glamorous. It's small and innocent, merely a pressing together of their mouths, but he tastes of chocolate and peppermint and it feels like coming home, and with a constricted sob Annabeth throws her arms around his neck just as he's pulling away.

Call her selfish, but she just wants to hold on to him for a little while longer.

Finally, it ends, as all things do. When he pulls away, Annabeth's face is wet. Her chest feels tight. There are so many things she wishes she could tell him.

But she can't, because she's kept him this long. And now she needs to let him go.

He takes a step backwards. It looks like he's trying to hold back tears, too.

"Goodbye, Annabeth," he says, and Annabeth's heart hurts.

Annabeth.

"Goodbye, Percy," she whispers.

He nods one last time – and then he's gone.

Annabeth cries all the way home.

* * *

 **A/N well this was the moment you were all waiting for**

 **sorry?**

 **i hope you liked that. sorry it's so angsty. HOWEVER i promise this is not the end. we've got a few more chapters until the end and percabeth will make its grand appearance once more so apologies for doing this to you guys**

 **and thank you guys SO MUCH for 360 reviews AHhhHh that's so crazy thank you all so so much. literally i appreciate you guys to the end of this earth i love you xxxxxx**

 **as always shoutout to ma baes rachel and helena for being awesome and fantastic and just lovely and also to mariam for being phenomenal and so lovely to me and to everyone who has ever reviewed because you guys are just the best i love you xxx**

 **anyway! that's all i have for now. as always please tell me what you thought and i'll see you next week! xxx**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

* * *

" _we've got younger faces than our hearts are letting on_ "  
\- novels, rusty clanton

* * *

 **One year later**

"Are we clear?" Annabeth asks.

A spark of static shoots through her earpiece. "Your target is headed towards the Ferris Wheel," the girl on the other end says. Annabeth still doesn't know her name. She thinks it might be Chlöe. Or Colette. Whatever. "CS has left her and is headed towards the toilets."

"Any leads?"

"Not at the moment. Jonnie is trying to get some. Have you got all your resources?"

Inconspicuously, Annabeth starts rootling through her handbag, under the guise of searching through her phone. Her fingers land on her can of hairspray (the taser), the chocolate bar (the tracking device), her lipstick (corrosive acid) and her knitting, which is not disguised as anything except a distraction to help pass the time when she has to wait _two bloody hours_ in a coffee shop for her target to finish her damn conversation with a person Annabeth knows she doesn't even _like_.

Honestly.

"All of them," she says.

"Excellent." There's a pause. "Nice scarf."

"Shut up."

It's not a nice scarf. It's puke green and pink.

"I'm going in," Annabeth mutters. "Keep an eye out. Have you got into the cameras yet?"

"Just did."

"Awesome. Make sure I don't die."

"Don't bet on it."

Annabeth tugs her shawl over her head and starts moving towards the Ferris Wheel.

She's currently on a mission to take down a girl with a weapon. She had first caught wind of it on the train, when her metal detector disguised as a hairbrush started vibrating like crazy. She had followed the girl off the train and then to a fairground, where she is currently. She had texted a random Society girl to get on her earpiece pronto, and then had ordered all her little fifteen-year-olds around, telling them to hack into this security camera and put a track on that girl.

Normally, she'd have someone with her, because knife crime was no laughing matter, especially since the girl looked barely older than Annabeth. But no one was capable enough yet, because everyone back at the Society were still in training. They were all around fourteen/fifteen enough – certainly not skilled enough to take down a criminal. They've slightly toned down the lessons ever since Annabeth's rather wayward mission to be normal went haywire, because they reckoned that if they kept the younger in-training spies with an IQ level that was only slightly over average then no one would want to kidnap them because they knew things. There are twenty-year-olds back at the Society with less expertise than Annabeth, even though she's only eighteen.

And Annabeth is grateful. She really is. She doesn't want anyone else getting hurt because of her, and ever since she first moved to Oklahoma she hasn't been threatened or stalked by anyone. Which is a hell of an improvement from when she was back in Georgia.

But– sometimes it's hard.

She got transferred around a year ago, and she hasn't seen Piper or Thalia since. She hasn't seen _anyone_ since, really. Even all her talks with Chiron have been video calls. And it's not a particularly bad thing at all, because she's safe. She's being taught how to become a better spy (they haven't toned down her lessons, because she's already above average even for a spy, and at this point dumbing her down really won't do anything since she's still got plenty of people who are after her) and all of her practicals are good and safe and helpful, where she's out in the field but she's being protected.

But she would be lying if she says she doesn't miss the thrill.

She misses everything. Even Lois.

Yes. She misses Lois. She subconsciously touches the fried ends of her hair, where the bleach still hasn't completely grown out yet. She still misses Lois, still misses _being_ Lois. Yes, it was dangerous and scary and every day was terrifying because she was in love with a boy who didn't know the girl behind the prosthetics and hair dye and she had a serial killer walking her school halls, but it was also so brilliant because every night she came home to her best friends in the whole world and at school she would hold hands with her boyfriend under the table and cram for tests during lunch and fib about her homework and she just misses it so much.

"Annabeth?" her earpiece hums.

She blinks out her reverie. "Sorry, just thinking. I'm moving in."

"We've got a visual. Be safe, Chase."

Annabeth doesn't answer.

Her target is a lithe svelte Latina with long dark hair in a braid and a purple T-shirt. It took her almost no time to find out that her name was Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano, and that she had a sister called Hylla who was also with her. Hylla seems to be oblivious to the weapon in Reyna's bag (Annabeth still can't tell what it is), but she is making it almost impossible for Annabeth to approach her because she simply won't leave. She had very quickly earned the nickname Clingy Sister (thus CS).

However, if what Cleo/Carla/Cathy had said was true and she is headed towards the toilets, that means that Annabeth has Reyna alone for a good five minutes at least. She juts her jaw and starts heading over.

However, just as she's moving in, she sees someone else start to head in. Reyna is waiting patiently in line, and Annabeth's eyes widen in surprise as she sees a girl around their age begin to power walk towards her. She's very good at making it look innocent and innocuous but Annabeth has been trained for fifteen years on how to read people. She's tense but she's very brave in the way she's walking.

She must be an accomplice. Annabeth's eyes narrow. She doesn't know the extent of Reyna's abilities with whatever weapon she has in that bag but bringing another person into it only makes the game more dangerous.

She quickens her pace.

She sees that the girl has noticed her, because even from far away she can see the firm set of her jaw. She tightens her stance and almost starts a light jog, which. That's cheating. They're _walking_ , for goodness sake. Running is not allowed.

Annabeth presses her mouth together.

You know what, screw it.

She starts to sprint.

At this point, she really doesn't give a damn. Her plan is to tackle Reyna to the ground and keep her in position with her own gun (which, yes, she has tucked somewhere amidst her tampons and spare change) and then when getting pulled off show them her FBI badge. Because she has one of those. The Society is closely tied in with the FBI, so every spy has one because every admittance into the Society goes through the FBI.

And look. She _knows_ she's supposed to be keeping a low profile, but her target has got an accomplice and if she doesn't get the first down quick enough then they'll be able to communicate and cause who knows how much havoc.

"Agent Chase!" Cathleen/Kira/Caitlyn says urgently through her earpiece. "What– what are you _doing_? You're drawing attention to yourself!"

Annabeth ignores her.

She is nearing Reyna. Reyna still has her back turned so she can't see her, but right before she jumps and brings her to the ground she suddenly gets hit from the side and is pushed down to the floor.

"Stay down," a voice orders in her ear. "Or I'll have the police on you and then you'll be in trouble."

Annabeth gasps. She _knows_ that voice.

With all her strength, she bucks herself upwards and twists around so she's lying on her back. Her attacker is still straddling her but now they're staring each other in the eyes and Annabeth nearly cries because if _hell_ she doesn't recognise that face.

Piper blinks down at her in shock. " _Annabeth_?"

Annabeth nearly bursts into tears right there and then. "Piper!"

Piper scrambles off her, grabbing Annabeth's hand and hauling her upwards. Some people are giving them odd looks, which Annabeth supposes is sort of reasonable because Piper _did_ just tackle her to the ground in the middle of a family carnival, but she ignores them, instead staring at her best friend in the face. She hasn't changed that much since Annabeth last saw her, which was a year ago right before her plane left, but her face has matured and her hair is longer. Annabeth thinks she's going to cry.

"What are you doing here?" she cries. "I thought Chiron had flown you guys back to Georgia!"

"We'll talk later," Piper promises. "However, right now we've got a girl with a gun about to get on that Ferris Wheel and if we're not careful someone might die so after we've taken her down we'll have a chat, how's that?"

"Yeah– I mean, yes, absolutely."

Annabeth feels herself beginning to slip back to the old Annabeth. She and Piper have never directly fought side-by-side on the field, but their old dynamics have barely changed and just looking at her almost brings all of it back. It's utterly ridiculous and Annabeth thinks she's dreaming.

Then she feels a hum in her earpiece.

"Is that–?" Colleen/Cassidy/Kayla squeaks. "Is that Agent _McLean_?"

"Not now, girl."

"Sorry!"

Her voice is an octave or two higher than normal. Annabeth decides not to mention it.

She and Piper head towards the Ferris Wheel. Reyna is dangerously near the front of the line, and Annabeth begins to pick up her pace. If Reyna gets on that wheel it could be the end for a whole lot of people.

Next to her, she feels Piper begin to start to run.

They reach the front of the line just before she's about to get on. Annabeth is just about to pause and ask what their game plan is, until Piper starts climbing over the ropes separating the line from the rest of the crowd and tumbles into Reyna's arms, throwing her own arms around her neck. "Oh, Reyna!" she cries, pulling away. "There you are, we've been looking for ages!"

Reyna steps backwards, watching her with wary eyes. "Who– who are you?"

"Come on, Alice is waiting for us," Piper says, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the ride.

Reyna shakes her hand free. She looks incredibly confused. "No, what the hell? Who are you?"

"Are you gonna get on the ride or not, lady?" the man working the wheel asks boredly. "You're holding up the queue."

"I'm really sorry, but she's gonna have to skip this one," Piper says apologetically before Reyna can get a word in edgeways. "We've been needing to head home for a while. Come on, Reyna. We're meeting Alice by the gates."

Reyna is so shocked that she allows herself to be dragged away. Annabeth watches anxiously. She knows that in a matter of seconds the surprise will wear off and she'll fight Piper off, and by the way Piper is only loosely holding onto her wrist it won't be hard to break free.

She jogs up to them just as Reyna begins to come to her bearings.

She wrenches her arm free and stares at Piper. "What are you doing?" she snaps. "What– who even _are_ you?"

Annabeth knows that Piper is about to get socked in the face if she doesn't act soon so she comes up from behind and grabs Reyna's arms. Reyna yelps in surprise and tries to wriggle free but Annabeth has a firm grip, and she takes her wrist in one hand and twists it so it's pushed up against her back.

"Move," she says against her ear, "and I'll break your arm."

Reyna trembles. "What's going on? What are you doing with me?"

Piper digs her wallet out of her jeans and flicks it open, showing her FBI badge. Reyna stills in Annabeth's arms, and Annabeth takes the opportunity to wrestle her backpack off her shoulder and drop it by her feet, opening it and digging through it, trying to find her gun.

"We're part of the FBI," Piper says pleasantly. "Agent McLean, pleased to make your acquaintance." She shoves her wallet back in her jeans. "We received a notification that you were in possession of an illegal firearm, and the fact that you're trying to bring a gun into such a public, open space is rather dangerous, especially when surrounded by innocent families." She beams at her. "Guns may be legal here in the USA but when you've covered the bullet in– what was it, Agent?"

Annabeth holds the gun to her nose. Reyna trembles as she feels its coldness against the back of her neck. "Poison," she says.

"Thank you, Agent. You have covered your bullets in lethal poison, which endangers many if not all members of the public. So we are putting you under arrest, if that's quite okay."

Reyna sighs. "You can't be serious."

Piper blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"You nitwits, I'm also part of the FBI."

Annabeth loosens her grip. " _What_?"

Reyna shakes out her arms and brings out her purse, showing them her own FBI badge. Annabeth and Piper stare at it. "That's why I've got a gun, you idiots," she says, unimpressed. "I had been anonymously tipped off that there was a terrorist in this fairground so I tried to track them down." She snaps her purse shut and glares at them. 'I just wasn't aware that I would have two idiotic FBI agents tracking me as well."

In Annabeth's earpiece, Cat/Cassandra/Casey sighs. "Oh my God."

Piper blinks. "Oh."

"Yeah. _Oh_."

Self-consciously, Annabeth rubs her arms. "Um. Sorry for grabbing you like that."

Reyna gives her a look. Annabeth stares sheepishly at her shoes.

"So, um." Piper bounces lightly on the balls of her feet. "Are you, uh– in the book club?"

Reyna blinks, unimpressed. "You mean the Society?"

Piper balks. "You can't– you can't say that in public!"

"Yes I can. It's not as if anyone knows what it is."

"Still!"

Reyna ignores her. She adjusts the waistband of her jeans around her hips. Annabeth watches her enviously. She's very pretty, she realises. Annabeth has managed to turn her own squish around her hips to muscle from all her training back at the headquarters, but the softness of her stomach and thighs from eating so much cake back in New York won't be going anywhere anytime soon. "Well, I am," she says. "I'm based in Puerto Rico, normally."

"What are you doing in the US?"

"Is that any business of yours?"

Annabeth watches her. She can tell instantly just by the way she moves.

Reyna catches her. "Quit it."

"Sorry."

It's too late. They both know Annabeth has already found out too much.

"Well." Reyna grabs her backpack from where Annabeth had dumped it on the ground. "I must be off to make sure this bomb threat isn't actually real. And please, for the love of God, don't go following me again."

She stalks off, her backpack slung over one shoulder. They both watch her as she disappears in a crowd.

"God, what a cow," Piper says.

"A very attractive cow."

"I suppose."

They wait in silence.

"Oh, she is, isn't she?" Piper says unhappily. "What a bottom."

* * *

"Where are you going, Annie?" Samantha asks.

"You're not going out, are you, Annie?" says Deborah anxiously. "Oh, you know you can't!"

Annabeth zips up her sweater. Samantha and Deborah are lovely, except as teenage girls they do a great deal of gossip and as spies most of their gossip circles around the latest news, most of which is still about Annabeth. Her story as Lois and how she shot down a building to kill the man who was responsible for the deaths of many Inner Circle children spread like a wildfire, and even a year later it's not stopped. Annabeth's kind of sick of it.

"I won't be long," she says.

"Kate said that you bumped into Piper McLean in your mission last week," Samantha says. "Is that true, Annie?"

Deborah gasps. "You're not going to sneak out to meet her, are you?"

Annabeth presses her lips together. "Don't tell Chiron."

Samantha giggles. "I won't!"

"We promise, Annie!"

It's no use. Annabeth knows they will anyway.

Nonetheless, she shoves her feet in her shoes and heads out the door.

She's meeting Thalia and Piper in a café down the street. As far as she's aware Chiron doesn't know, although he most probably does, because he's in charge of the spies' schooling and Annabeth doesn't hesitate to believe that Katie (finally, she knows her name) spread the news of her bumping into Piper on her mission as soon as she could. Chiron probably put two and two together.

Whatever. She's been isolated for a year. She deserves some fun with her best friends.

She heads down the street with her hands in her pockets. If she closes her eyes hard enough she can almost imagine she's Lois again, going to meet P– her boyfriend at the park for a date.

 _Don't think of his name. Don't think of his name._

She hasn't let herself think of his name for a year. She can't. It hurts too much.

She pushes the door open of the café. It's dark and it takes her a moment to adjust but as soon as she looks properly she can make out a head of dark hair sitting at a table with another figure who's sitting too far in the shadows to see properly.

Annabeth rushes over.

"Piper!" she calls. She can't be bothered with code names. Who even cares anymore.

Actually, well. Probably a few people.

But not her. Not today.

Piper looks up, and beams. "Annabeth!"

Annabeth flings herself at her. It's not the first time she's seen her, but it's the first time she's been able to relax – in her arms, it feels like coming home, because she smells like New York and stale bread and ten-dollar budgets and Annabeth feels her eyes begin to fill with tears because she's missed her so much.

When she pulls back, she sees Piper's beginning to cry too.

"Oh, you soppy thing," she chokes out, and Piper lets out a watery laugh.

"I've missed you," Piper wails. "It's been too long."

"Always one for dramatics."

Annabeth takes her head away from Piper's collarbone to look at the other figure on the table and almost gasps.

"Your hair!"

Thalia laughs. "Nice to see you too, kiddo."

Annabeth squeals and rushes over, giving her a hug. Thalia giggles into her shoulder and Annabeth marvels at her new – and also bright blue – hair.

"You dyed it!"

"I did. Looks cool, innit?"

"You look great!"

"I know."

 _I know_. Annabeth wants to laugh but also cry because she's missed them and she's not sure she can handle moving away again.

"What brings you guys to Oklahoma?"

"Chiron relocated us," Thalia says. Piper is too busy trying to subtly wipe away her tears with a napkin. "Said that we'd be safer here than in Georgia. Also realised that we were going stir-crazy locked up. Georgia's dead, man. Nothing ever happens there. We're apparently in danger so we weren't allowed outside and we were the only people under thirty there, so it was just us two. He said we could attend the Oklahoma Society instead so we'd be safer and also with more familiar faces."

Annabeth blinks. "Wait, so you're _staying_?"

Thalia nods triumphantly. "Yep!"

"Oh my God."

Piper starts to cry again. "This is so cool."

Thalia rolls her eyes. "Bloody hell, I set her off again. She's been crying all morning."

"It's because I'm excited!" Piper sobs. "I'm just– I haven't seen you in so long!"

Annabeth laughs. "I've missed you both too."

They talk for _hours_. Annabeth was only expecting a short visit and she'll know that at this point Samantha and Deborah definitely would have blabbed except she's just so thrilled to see her best friends again that she doesn't even care. They order one round of hot chocolate and muffins, and then a second, and then a third, and then Piper gets a forth and a fifth ("it's because I'm emotional," she explains, although at this point she hasn't cried for at least two hours. "I get hungry when I'm emotional.") and they talk and laugh and love and Annabeth almost starts crying again because she hasn't been this happy in what feels like forever.

It feels like coming home.

That is, until the door swings open and the bell rings. Annabeth would normally think nothing of this, until Piper suddenly pales and ducks behind her pain au chocolat and Thalia widens her eyes.

Annabeth subconsciously tenses. "What?" she asks, seeking out for a reflective surface. She's not facing the door so she can't see. "Luke?"

"Worse," Piper squeaks.

Thalia elbows her. "Piper!"

" _Worse_?" Annabeth demands.

"Only marginally!"

"Who?"

"Look."

Annabeth whirls around.

And of course. Of course it is.

Percy Jackson stands at the counter, looking at the boards behind the workers for what to choose.

Annabeth almost starts to cry again.

* * *

 **A/N i knowww im sorry its another filler chapter ahh**

 **i did want to write more except i didn't want to keep anyone waiting for too much longer and i was out for a lot of today which is why it is a filler chapter, otherwise i would have extended it and not ended where i did. (believe it or not this took FIVE HOURS i know three thousand crummy words in five hours writer's block has hit me hard)**

 **a big big thank you to rachel and helena rachel for being my number 1 supporter who motivates me to write and also helena for being an all round amazing person and for educating me on canada you guys are amazing and wonderful lOVE YOU PALS**

 **ALSO thanks for 384 reviews! you guys are WILD i love you thank you to each and every person who has reviewed. this story only has a few more chapters so at the end i'll do a massive thank you to like every person who has ever reviewed so be prepared**

 **as always i love you all, thanks for being amazing and sorry again about the filler! see you next week my lovelies xxxxx**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

* * *

" _and for the first time what's passed is passed_ "  
\- begin again, taylor swift

* * *

At this point Annabeth is just convinced the universe has something against her.

She's experienced lots of misfortune in the eighteen years that she's been alive. Many of these consist of her almost dying. Another handful involve of her being the reason other people have almost died, and then a smaller portion involving frying pans, but she doesn't think anything has been as badly timed and ridiculous as her ex-boyfriend, the same one that she had shot in the arm and then dragged out of a collapsing building, walking into a coffee shop she also happened to be in a year later.

They don't even live in the same _state_.

"Oh my God," she whispers in shock.

"At least he hasn't recognised you," Piper tells her comfortingly.

"What's he doing right now?"

"Ordering a drink. Looks like a frappuccino."

Thalia snorts. "How basic."

Annabeth sighs in relief. "Okay. Okay."

"It's takeaway," Piper notes. "He's not staying."

"Good."

"He wouldn't recognise you, anyway," Thalia says nonchalantly. "He's only seen you sans Lois once before. That's not enough to properly remember your face – especially because he knows that you're Lois, which means whenever he thinks of you the only face he'll be able to pull up is hers."

"I think you're forgetting that you guys look virtually the same as you did when you were Georgina and Tess."

"Ah." Piper takes a nervous sip of her coffee. "Right."

"It doesn't matter anymore, anyway," Thalia says. "He's left."

Annabeth practically collapses in her chair, melting against the backrest like a droopy sock puppet. She realises her hands are shaking, she's shaking all over, and to regain some composure she shoves them in between her thighs so they stop. She feels packed in, tight, and she's not sure if she's going to faint or cry.

Knowingly, Piper pushes her plate towards her. It's got an untouched muffin on it, and robotically Annabeth reaches out to break a piece off. The sugar helps her relax, always has, really, but no amount of cake could possibly calm her down now.

"What's he even doing in Oklahoma?" Annabeth asks. "He's meant to be in New York!"

Piper shrugs and tries to subtly sneak a piece of the muffin without Annabeth realizing. "This is a total disaster," Annabeth says. "What if I bump into him again?"

"You won't, trust me," Thalia assured her. "A few years back I lived in Los Angeles for around a year and I didn't see a _single_ celebrity."

"Still!"

"There's around four million people in Oklahoma," Piper says, taking Annabeth's whole plate back. Annabeth is too shaken to really care. "Trust me. The chances of seeing him again would literally be one in a million. Or rather one in _four_ million."

Annabeth frowns as Piper innocently picks at the chocolate pieces in the muffin. She _supposes_ they're right, in the whole grande scheme of things.

She just needs to man up. She won't see Percy again.

And besides, it probably wasn't even him. She needs to get a grip.

* * *

"You saw Percy?" Chiron asks, his grey eyes wide over the rims of his glasses.

Annabeth nods erratically. "Yeah," she says. "In a café."

So maybe she didn't exactly end up _getting a grip._ Whatever.

Ever since the incident, Chiron has been gently encouraging her take therapy sessions. Annabeth has never really been a fan of therapy, despite the fact that the therapists have been sworn to secrecy and all live in the Society, simply because she doesn't really know them, and whenever she tries to recount what happened or how she's feeling her brain just short-circuits and either ends up void of emotion or bawling her eyes out, neither of which she really enjoys. However, even after she had refused, Chiron had given her a knowing look and told her that if she needed to talk he was always here.

And honestly? She had appreciated the offer. Still does. The PTSD was disgusting and sometimes in the night when she couldn't go to sleep because she kept seeing Percy's heartbroken face and the splatter of blood on the back of her eyelids she would patter down the hallway to Chiron's office where he would allow her to curl up on his sofa and nod off there. Chiron never really falls asleep, just kind of stays up all night reading over reports, and Annabeth had never really realised how helpful it was until now.

She still comes to him. It's worn off in the past year, but every now and then she relapses and she needs the reassurance that the only father figure in her life is still there, but she rarely talks. Which isn't wholly unusual, because she's never really been a fan of talking.

But this whole Percy situation has her freaked the hell out.

Chiron falls silent, and laces his fingers. After a short pause, he says, "Why did you come to me?"

And. Well.

It's going fabulously, as you can tell.

Annabeth stares at his desk.

"Annabeth?"

She picks at a hole in her jeans. "I dunno," she says. Her throat constricts, so she clears it uncomfortably. "I dunno, it's– it's hard to explain."

Chiron watches her with knowing eyes. "Take your time, Miss Chase."

Annabeth hears her heartbeat in her ears, feels it hum behind her eyes. It hurts. "I haven't seen him in a year," she says finally. She still doesn't look at him properly. His soft gaze often has a nasty habit of getting her to spill a little too much. "And– I don't know. I thought I was getting better, you know? I thought I ws over him. Which I was, technically. Or I thought I was, anyway. And then– and then I just saw him again, and everything kind of went– bad, I guess." She laughs a little. It's mirthless. "I wasn't really over him," she says quietly. "I thought I was, and then I saw him and I wasn't."

Chiron has a thoughtful look on his face. After a small silence, he asks, "Upon seeing him, has your PTSD become worse?"

She really hasn't the slightest clue what this has to do with anything, but she shakes her head.

"Have you noticed an increase in your nightmares?"

"No."

"Have your anxiety levels spiked?"

"No."

Chiron gives her a warm, fatherly yet mildly exasperated look. "Then what are you so _scared_ of?"

And–

She stops.

What is she so scared of?

She closes her eyes, because she doesn't know.

Chiron notices and his face softens. "Annabeth," he says. "Look at me."

Annabeth opens her eyes but she stares at the table.

"Are you afraid of Percy or your feelings towards him?" he asks.

She doesn't respond.

Chiron sighs a little. "Listen, Miss Chase. In all honesty, I don't know what you're going through."

"That's a lie."

"A little bit. But I'm not going to Study you to better understand it, because you don't need that." He laces his fingers. "Look, Annabeth. You were born into this lifestyle. You've been a spy since you could crawl, and every single day of every year that we have ever pushed you to become better, to become a dignified young woman sure of herself and where she places her heart, you have braved through it all without fail." His voice softens. "You are going to get hurt for the rest of your life. That I won't sugarcoat. And yes, you've experienced pain and death and heartbreak, and that isn't easy for anyone. But I haven't raised you since your mother died to let something as stupid as a _boy_ bring you down."

She manages to crack a smile.

"You are so, so brave, Annabeth Chase. Don't be scared. Fate brought Percy here, and life only does you favours once in a while. Grab hold of it. Grab hold of him. Don't be scared of him. What's the worst that can happen? He rejects you. You split ways forever. You've done it once, and it took a while, but you're still here."

Annabeth presses her mouth together. She had never remembered therapy being this intense.

Then again, maybe it's just Chiron.

"You've made it out alive, Annabeth. You're only scared of Percy because you're scared that you're going to hurt him again, that he's going to hurt you. You are bigger and stronger and better than that, Miss Chase. Face it on head-first. If you don't I can assure you it will be one of your biggest regrets."

Annabeth nods. Once, twice. And then she stands up.

"Thank you," she says.

Chiron bobs his head at her.

She turns around and leaves. It's midday and she's wearing a pair of jeans and her sneakers but she still crawls into her bed and pulls the covers up over her head so no one can see or hear her.

And that's when she allows herself to cry.

* * *

Annabeth next sees Percy a month later.

She's at the park by herself. It's not for any reason other than for some calming leaf drawing, because Chiron had suggested she do it and also because calming leaf drawing has always been a nice theraputic way of getting by.

(Thalia dared laugh at her when she told her where she was going but she decides not to dwell on such negativity. It's all good vibes here. Nice chill calming leaf vibes.)

And that's when she spots Percy.

He's walking across the palk holding a wallet, looking rather awkward. He's wearing a pair of jeans and a faded old hoodie – with a pang of nostalgic heartache she recognises it as the same hoodie he had given to her on multiple occasions when she was cold. It was always far too big for her, too big for him, too, but he's grown into it now. He looks the same but he's aged, and she can see it in the lines on his face. His arm is fine, because of course it is, but Annabeth has been experiencing phantom limb pains and she knows he is too. They suck, because they come out of nowhere and hurt like hell, but also because she knows it's always going to be a permanent reminder of what she did and she thinks that might be the worst part.

He's grown up, and so has she, but it's hard looking at him after all this time because she wans't there to see it.

Then suddenly her eyes widen because she realises he's heading towards her.

She knows it's not for her, because she's sitting right in front of the park gates, but her heart still begins to jackrabbit. She isn't wearing a disguise and her jacket doesn't have a hood she can skulk into, and unfortunately her sketch pad is one of those small ones she can slip into her pockets, so she's got nothing to hide behind.

Percy is nearing. Annabeth knows he's caught sight of her, and his eyebrows have furrowed, almost as if he's trying to place where he's seen her before, so she internally swears and shoves her things into her bag, standing up. She hopes that by power walking to the other end of the park he won't follow her.

But he shouldn't. He's too much of a gentleman, always has been. It would be much too creepy.

Well. Or so she thought, anyway.

She hasn't been walking for a minute yet, when she hears crunching grass behind her and in the reflection of her sunglasses she sees that he's anxiously following her like a dog would to its master. She pulls them further up her face and quickens her pace.

 _Don't call out don't call out don't c–_

"Lois?"

Her heart stutters.

"Sorry," she throws over her shoulder, moving even faster. She's almost jogging now. She hopes that's a a subtle hint that he should just back off. "I, uh, think you have the wrong person."

There's a pause. She closes her eyes in relief, hoping that finally he's got the memo and made a sudden U-turn, when there's a hesitant little sigh and he tentatively asks, "...Annabeth?"

She takes a sharp intake of breath, and reluctantly turns around.

For the first time in a year, she's face-to-face with Percy Jackson.

He's different close-up, and yet not. His eyes are still beautiful. His hair is still wild. He's still got lines around his mouth that fold whenever he smiles – but he's worried and tense, and he has creases in his forehead and a scar underneath his lip. Annabeth hopes it's from something stupid like chewing a stapler. She knows that it's probably from where Luke punched him before she arrived.

"Hey, Percy."

Percy looks a little disheveled, like he genuinely wasn't expecting it to be her. She sees how he takes into account her hair, her eyes, her clothes, and swallows when he looks back at her face. She feels scrutinized under his gaze. It makes her feel awkward and closed-in.

"Hey," he breathes. "Um." He lets out a huffy little laugh. "Sorry, I just– this is so weird."

"Yeah. S'pose you can say that."

"I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"Neither was I, I mean– what happened to New York?"

Percy smiles awkwardly. "Um. I applied for a college here."

She stares at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." He laughs, a tad breathlessly. She doesn't mention it. "Um. My mom and I moved."

"What are you studying?"

"Marine biology."

"That's– that's really cool, Perce."

He smiles bashfully. "Thanks."

The conversation grinds to a hault. Percy looks into her eyes imploringly, and in that moment as much as she hates small talk Annabeth would willingly do it until she could escape and run all the way back to the Society because they both know they're skirting around the elephant in the room, avoiding it like the plague.

"So, um." Percy shuffles from foot to foot and Annabeth is kind of grateful to know she isn't the only one who feels awkward. "It– it _is_ Annabeth, right?"

She lets out a small laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"Good, good." He pulls with his fingers. "I wasn't sure if it was, like, Annabelle, or something."

"It's definitely Annabeth."

"Good, okay."

They're both stalling.

Annabeth opens her mouth to say something, and then shuts it again. What does she say? The small talk is excrutiating and she hates it, and the scar on her thigh is telling her that they need to talk, properly talk, but they can't do it in public.

She swallows. "Look," she says, her voice halting and awkward. "Do you want to, um, go to a coffee shop to maybe talk? Catch up a bit?"

There's a message behind her words. Something flickers in Percy's face and Annabeth knows he's understood it.

This is it. They're coming clean.

A year later, with his arm and her leg both healed but their minds still possibly teetering over the edge, and they've finally come back to set fire to the fuse to blow it up one last time.

He nods jerkily. "Um, sure," he says. "There's a, uh, café down the road?"

"Yeah– um, sounds good."

They both walk there side-by-side. It's not like last time. Every time there has been something between them – it used to be love, and then it turned to hate, and now the rope has been twisted and burnt and frozen so many times it's fraying. This could make or break it. Either way, it's going to be calm and collected, settling the skeletons down to rest.

They can finally bury the casket. It's been haunting them for too long.

This is it.

Annabeth blows a silent sigh of relief.

They arrive to the café in good time. It's mostly empty, which is nice, so they get their pick of table. Percy chooses one by the window, with a little blue gingham tablecloth and a flower in the centre. It reminds Annabeth so much of their first date, back at McDonald's, where she was brave enough to hold his hand for the first time.

It's a nice memory. She almost reaches out to hold it again but then she realises she can't.

The waitress asks them for their order. Percy gets an apple juice and Annabeth gets a coffee. She writes it down on her notepad and bobs off, and then it's just them and everything they never said like a loaded gun in the centre of the table.

They're quiet for a bit.

"I read the report," Percy says suddenly.

Annabeth looks up. "The report?"

"The one they wrote about the– the accident," he says. His voice catches and Annabeth wants to curl up in a ball. "I read it. At the hospital. And then I read the newspaper when I got home. Mom didn't want me to but I did."

Annabeth stares intensely at her fingernails. She needs to repaint them.

Percy looks at the tablecloth, his eyes shifting, obviously deciding what to say and how to say it. "You got shot, too," he says.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you knew."

"I knew you were shot. I didn't know you also carried me out on your injured leg."

Annabeth ducks her head.

"You saved me life," he says, softer.

"I had to."

"Why?"

She sighs and squares up her shoulders. "It was the least I owed you," she mumbles self-consciously. "If anyone deserved to make it out alive it was you."

Percy swallows. "What about you?"

Annabeth laughs mirthlessly. "Percy, I had lied to you for about a year. I arrived home as Annabeth and left as Lois. I knew that that was it. You were going to find out one way or another. It was my crappy way of saying sorry, in a way."

Percy doesn't look at her. "I hated you for so long, you know."

Annabeth can't say she's surprised. It still stings.

"After you visited me," he begins, "I hated you. I hated you so much. I think it's because I thought you had screwed up for me, and I couldn't even forget you because I was in physiotherapy for about six months to get my arm working again. I was in proper therapy, too."

"Same," Annabeth says. "Still am, actually. It's why I was in the park today."

He blinks, momentarily taken aback. "But– you were alone?"

"Oh, no, not like that. My therapist said I should do some calming leaf drawing."

"Oh." Percy pauses. "Is it?"

"Is it what?"

"Calming."

"Absolutely. I recommend it."

"Thanks."

Annabeth suddenly realises she's gone very off topic. "Sorry, back to you," she says. "Your story."

"Oh. Well. I hated you."

"Thanks."

"You deserved it."

"Yeah, I know."

There's a quick lull in conversation as the waitress arrives with their drinks. They both thank her and once she walks away Percy laces his fingers around his glass. He looks so young, with his straw and his apple juice and his black hair falling over his forehead, and Annabeth kind of wants to wrap him in a hug.

"You were saying?" she prompts gently.

Percy nods. "Well, I was in proper therapy. It was scary. It like Gabe all over again."

Annabeth flinches. "Oh my God."

"It's okay. Well, it is now, anyway. Back then I was just so scared. I kept having nightmares. I kept waking up because I couldn't stop seeing myself tied to this chair with a gun pointed to my head, and I just kept throwing up and not being able to eat and I couldn't even watch a movie for a couple of months because the flashing lights and loud noises would just– trigger me into a panic attack. It was so scary, and at first when I had thought it was all your fault, I just kept blaming you because it was like all these things were just ways I couldn't forget you.

"It was weird," he went on. "Waking up. Everything hurt. I woke up after you did, because by that time I had police in my room who were asking me about the whereabouts of Lois Watermann. I didn't even know you were meant to be in hospital. But then they said that you had run away. That was what made me angry, I think. Because you always had a nasty habit of just disappearing. And now you just kind of left me, bruised and bloody and with a bullet in my arm, all by myself.

"And then you appear back out of nowhere, but you're just– not you anymore. You're not Lois, because you look like– like that" – he gestures vaguely to her general vicinity – "and then you're telling me that you're not actually Lois but you are at the same time. And it made sense, and it still does, because a lot of things are adding up, but I just couldn't handle it. Because my girlfriend who had just shot me in the arm went missing before I could ask her what the hell had just happened and then reppeared like a ghost looking like a completely different person and told me that Lois was just– just a lie.

"I dunno. It just– hurt. _I_ was hurt. In both senses, too, because my arm wasn't making life any easier either."

Annabeth listens to every word with a sick kind of rapture. She hates herself. She is filled with self-loathing, because she dared to claim to love this boy and yet she does all this to him? She kind of wants to tip her coffee all over herself. Maybe if she's lucky it'll burn her to the ground.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry, Percy."

"It's okay."

It is now. It wasn't back then.

"It could have been worse, I guess," Percy goes on, trying to keep things lighthearted. "You could have actually killed me."

"Yes, that wouldn't have been great."

Percy cracks a little smile at her. She smiles back.

She thinks they're going to be okay.

"So," Percy says, taking a sip of his apple juice. "Have you applied for a college yet?"

Annabeth nods. "Yeah. I'm attending a community college."

"In Oklahoma?"

She nods.

"Cool. What're you studying?"

"Architecture and Mathematics."

The cool thing? She actually _is_.

She'll never stop being a spy. Even if she officially quits, she'll never really be able to leave, because she still has plenty of people after her who would happily rip out of her vitals and feed them to their dogs, but Chiron helped her finish up her high school studies and even got her a diploma. She's going to a college like a normal human being and she's so thrilled, because when she grows up and graduates she could end up as an architect.

An _actual_ architect.

It's beyond cool.

"That's awesome," Percy says. "You always wanted to be an architect, right?"

"Yeah. It's– pretty cool."

Understatement of the century.

Percy opens his mouth to say something when suddenly Annabeth's phone goes off. She gives him an apologetic look, and fishes it out of her bag, pressing answer without looking at the number and holding it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Where on earth are you?" Thalia screeches.

Annabeth winces. "Okay, too loud."

"I don't care!" She's even louder now. Annabeth holds her phone a few inches away. Percy looks amused. He can probably hear her. "Where are you?"

"I'm at a café."

"You were meant to be home, like. Two hours ago!"

"No I wasn't. My therapist said I could go to the park and do some calming leaf drawing."

Thalia splutters with anger. "Still!"

"You can't argue against that."

"Yes, but I will, because that's utterly absurd."

"It's a method of helping me curb my emotions."

Thalia sighs impatiently. "Be home in twenty minutes," she says.

It's not a question. "Fine."

Thalia ends the phone call with a indignant huff.

Annabeth drops her phone back in her bag and gives Percy an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry," she says. "Duty calls."

"It's okay."

"Should we get the bill?"

He waves her off. "No stress. It's on me."

"You sure?"

"One hundred percent."

She smiles. "Thank you."

"It's cool."

It's for more than the drinks. They both know what she means.

She's just about to turn around and leave, when she pauses. She pulls her sketchbook and her pencil out of her bag and scribbles down her number on a page, ripping out and shoving it at him. "In case you want to keep in touch," she rushes out. "You know."

Percy nods, looking a little startled. "Uh, sure."

"Thank you again."

"It's okay."

They're going to be okay.

Annabeth just knows it.

* * *

 **A/N so**

 **we hit 400 reviews**

 **WHAT**

 **guys you are all absolutely nuts i love you so so so so so much. honestly you guys are the best and i love you to pieces you beautiful beautiful angels (ahahhHhh I LOVE YOUUUU). as per tradition, i would normally do a big shoutout thing to you guys because ily however next chapter is unfortunately our final chapter, and at the end of that i'm doing one big giant shout-out whatsit, so i'll save all my pleased excited happy feelings for then**

 **(however until then i love you all and musicalbookworm those puns were awful and i laughed at them pure classic)**

 **ALSO!  
**

 **me and my gals Rachel (** **TheWritingManiac** **) and Helena (GollyGeeWhiz) (both of which are amazing human beings check out their stories you will not be disappointed) have created Pinterest boards for all our stories which is pretty cool! They're mainly just lots of aesthetic stuff for iSpy, and also there are boards for Helena's story Childhood and Rachel's story As Long As We're Together: The Price Of Freedom. It also actually really helps visualise some stuff so yes do go check it out (i will have a link to my pinterest account in my bio woop woop) and if you want to follow or add anything please feel free!**

 **anywho that's all that i have for today folks i love you allLLL and i shall see you next saturday (also hopefully this wasn't too disappointing woop). Byeee! xxx**


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

* * *

" _through the hardest part, i'm working towards a happy ending_ "  
\- middle of starting over, sabrina carpenter

* * *

 _"_ _Ooh, you're all dressed up," Piper notes._

 _Annabeth hurriedly zips up her hoodie, avidly trying to avoid the question's inevitable destination. "Am I now?"_

 _"_ _You're wearing a pretty dress and shoes that aren't caked in mud, I'd say that's quite dressed up to me."_

 _Thalia looks up from the TV screen, mildly interested. However, once her eyes land on Annabeth, with her eyeliner winged and her dress ironed, a smirk spreads across her face. She's wearing that I-know-something look and Annabeth inwardly curses because more often than not I-know-something really does mean 'I know something' and most of the time that 'something' happens to be a little more than just a 'something'._

 _Annabeth has always hated the I-know-something look._

 _"_ _I think I have a very good idea," she says with a wicked grin._

 _"_ _No you don't," Annabeth tells her sharply, mouthing please shut up when Piper isn't looking and untangling the Xbox controller wires._

 _"_ _Who?" Piper asks. Then she scowls and says, "Oh no, it's not that guy you bumped into at the mall yesterday who trailed you around for two hours begging for your number, is it?"_

 _Thalia rolls her eyes. "For goodness sake, Piper, you're meant to be the love expert."_

 _Piper gasps. "It is!"_

 _Annabeth takes the opportunity to shove her phone in her pocket and pull on her shoes. "Well, must be off."_

 _"_ _Think, Piper. Who was Annabeth texting all of last night?"_

 _Piper's eyes widen. "No way. Are you serious?"_

 _"_ _I'm leaving now," Annabeth announces._

 _"_ _You're going on a date with Percy!" Piper shouts._

 _"_ _I'm not going on a date with Percy."_

 _"_ _You are totally going on a date with Percy!"_

 _Need Annabeth remind that she's still shouting?_

 _"_ _I'm leaving," she says loudly again, walking towards the door._

 _"_ _Annabeth's going on a date with Peeeeerrrrrrcy," Piper trills._

 _"_ _I'm not!" Annabeth shouts back as she slams the door._

 _(She is)._

* * *

Annabeth recalls the memory fondly. Those were good times.

She looks down at the jar of pickles she's holding and her paused Netflix chick-flick with a sigh.

Ten years later, and this is what she's doing. She doesn't even like pickles.

Suddenly, her phone starts to ring. She puts the pickles down and wipes her damp fingers on her blouse, digging her mobile out of her pocket and holding it to her ear.

"What do you need, Chiron?"

Chiron chuckles. The sound sends vibrations of static across the line and Annabeth feels the phone jump in her hand. She suppresses a smile. "What, no hello?"

"I'm a pregnant twenty-nine year old woman who is about to give birth at any moment, I'm allowed to talk however I want."

"Your doctor says you have a few weeks."

"I'm still growing, too. I don't even think I can get up anymore."

"Well, unfortunately for you, I've got another case for you."

Annabeth sighs. "Chiron."

"It's quite a simple task. You don't even have to leave the house."

"At this point even lifting my arms causes me pain. Just let me sleep."

"No can do, Miss Chase."

Five years married and he still calls her that. Bloody hell.

"Mr Alexander Taylor of the White House has just contacted me to notify me that the FBI have caught wind of an unknown hacker wandering around the Government database. Now obviously, this is not a good thing at all, so I had told him that we would have our best trackers on the case. And, well. You've always been top of the class."

Annabeth closes her eyes. Breaking into the Government with an IP address that she'll have to broadcast to everyone but still disguise so if the hacker does bump into her he won't know she's working to expose him is the last thing she wants to do, because the baby inside of her stomach is really making even breathing a lot more difficult than it should be, but she knows that she has to.

Sighing, she says, "I'll do it."

Chiron lets out a very obvious breath of relief. "Thank you, Miss Chase. I'll get Adam and Clara on the case as well."

"Yeah, yeah."

He hangs up. Annabeth scowls at the screen of her phone for a while, and then as if to give Chiron a big middle finger she throws it on the sofa.

Then she grabs a pillow, shoves it against her face and screams into it.

See. Look.

Annabeth's life has been good. Good for a spy, anyway. She and Percy kept in touch. They did a lot more than keep in touch, actually, because one thing led to another and soon texting turned to friend-dates and friend-dates turned to actual-dates and somehow one way or another they ended up dating again. It was different than before, because the accident had aged them in ways teenagehood really can't, and they were a lot more careful and sensible this time around.

Of course, it was still silly and reckless, because they were both eighteen-year-olds with phantom bullets in their limbs, running around Oklahoma with laced hands and visiting almost every café they could and ordering the same thing every single time (a blueberry muffin and a hot chocolate for Annabeth and an apple juice and coffee for Percy) for no other reason other than the fact they were both creatures of extraordinary habit. Annabeth visited Percy's new house and Sally made her a cup of tea and while Percy was at his college and Annabeth had a day off they would both sit and talk about life. Thalia and Piper met Percy properly, because they introduced themselves as Thalia and Piper, and Percy gave Piper Jason's number and Piper was so scared to text it that she kept it saved in her phone as AHHHHH with a stop sign emoji for weeks because by texting it she would also have to explain everything and she was "not emotionally prepared in the very slightest stop _laughing_ Thalia".

And eventually? Percy popped the question.

It had been a funny thing, the proposal. Throughout the first half of their relationship, when Annabeth was Lois and they were both ignorant, blind to the grit of New York, Annabeth had taken the lead most the time. Which was not a bad thing (you know, breaking gender norms and whatnot), but even after all this time apart Annabeth had been rather taken aback with the fact that _Percy_ had been the one to grow the balls and do it.

Not that she was necessarily complaining. She did end up accepting, after all.

The wedding was a small affair near the edge of Oklahoma. Sally had suggested New York during the wedding planning but Percy and Annabeth had both agreed that New York was not a place they wanted to go really ever again. It held too many bad memories, too many skeletons that they'd have to dig up, and on the practical side of things both of their therapists had suggested staying away for a while, or at least until they were one hundred percent healed. Which they wouldn't be for a while.

Chiron had walked Annabeth down the aisle. Thalia and Piper were her bridesmaids and Grover and Percy's cousin Nico were his groomsmen, and Annabeth wore a beautiful white gown and Percy was so nervous he forgot to say "I do" and Thalia sneezed during the wedding vows but it was perfect. They danced to The Beatles and One Direction and Sally cried so hard she ruined all of her makeup, and Grover danced with his fiancée Juniper and Piper accidentally spilt her champagne down her dress and Annabeth had never been so happy.

Five years later and they still don't live with each other, but they're going to soon because Annabeth is pregnant and Percy has got his first job at a middle school.

And through it all? Annabeth is still a spy.

She's wrapped up college and she now works at an architectural firm. She's not the top dog yet but she hopes she will be soon, and every day after work she pops to the Society to says hello to all the new trainees, and Chiron will give her a case file for her to work on that night and complete as quickly as possible. They're not too big or strenuous, considering she's now with child, but they are still difficult enough to keep her mind active.

She says she hates them. Especially nowadays (she blames it on the pregnancy hormones). But honestly, while they can be the last things she wants to do, she's thankful for them. It's something to do while she's at home to stop her brain melting.

Thalia walks in the room, holding two cups of tea. "That's a happy sound," she says.

Annabeth drops the pillow and glares at her half-heartedly.

Thalia sits down on the sofa next to her, offering her a mug. Annabeth takes it and sips. "How's the baby?" she asks.

"Giving his mama grief."

"Sounds about right. Now what's gotten you all hot and bothered?"

"Chiron has a case for me."

"And...?"

"It's not a practice thing this time. It's an actual genuine case."

"Sounds cool."

"I have to rootle through the Government's files and try and find a hacker."

"Ooh, fun."

"I guess." She stares at her swollen belly. "It's the last thing I want to do, though."

"Man up, Chase. You've walked two miles on a broken leg before."

"This is, like, one hundred times worse though."

Thalia rolls her eyes. "Oh, give me strength."

"Shut up." Annabeth rubs her hands over her stomach. She's almost the size of a small whale, but strangely it doesn't bother her as much as Chiron had warned her it would. She thinks she's just grateful for an excuse to sit on the sofa eating crisps whilst Piper forces Thalia to do yoga exercises with her.

Speaking of, actually.

"Where _is_ Piper?" she asks.

"Out. She was being oddly vague when I asked her."

"You don't think she's with Jason, do you?"

Thalia sips her tea. "Him or any other guy she doesn't want us knowing about."

"You want to follow them to see?"

Thalia gives her a dead look over the rim of her mug. "We are almost thirty years old, Annabeth. We don't do things like that anymore. That's for childish, immature teenagers, not dignified, classy ladies like ourselves."

Annabeth watches her.

"You put a tracker in her phone, didn't you," she says.

"I might have."

Annabeth heaves herself off the sofa. "Come on, then."

"Wait, hold up, you can't go. You're gonna give birth like, any minute now."

"So?"

Thalia stares at her for a few seconds, before shaking her head. "All right," she mutters, grabbing her car keys. "But if Baby comes out on the highway and Percy yells at me for it you are going to be the first to tell him it was your fault."

It takes them an embarrassingly long time to get down the stairs, and that's mainly Annabeth's fault because her stomach is so big and she's spent so much time sitting down that she needs to stop every few minutes to catch her breath. Thalia is a gem, however, holding her hand and helping her move. They pass a few people, mainly their neighbours, who give Annabeth shocked looks (they had heard of the pregnancy, because in their apartment block something as significant as a pregnancy does not go unnoticed), but she normally leaves pretty early in the morning for work so the size of her stomach must be a bit of a surprise.

"Nosy cows," Thalia mutters the fourth time it happens.

"I'm the size of a small mammal, Thalia, it's justifiable."

"They're staring at you like you belong in a zoo!"

"My word, you're worse than Percy."

They make it to the car within around ten minutes. Annabeth would offer to drive, because Thalia's driving is crazy dangerous, but she physically can't fit behind the steering wheel so instead she sits in the front seat and prays to every god that they don't crash.

"Where is she?"

Thalia checks her phone. "In a café down the street. It's not that far away. Let's go."

The drive is quick and, thankfully, without accident. They get there in good time, and Thalia parks across the road from the café. It's got a wide glass window across the front so you can see in, and yep, that's definitely Piper. She looks very pretty, and Annabeth almost gets distracted by how flattering her brown skin looks in the white of her tank top until Thalia elbows in the side and hisses, "It's _Jason_!"

Annabeth squints.

Holy cow, it is.

"Good for her," Thalia mumbles. "Get it, girlfriend."

Annabeth frowns. "Wait, there's someone else."

"Is there? I can't see."

"Me either. It's too shadow-y." She unbuckles her seatbelt. "Here, I'll go eavesdrop."

Thalia stops her. "Um, no. I'll do it."

"Why?"

"Annabeth, you're nine months pregnant. You're about as subtle as a dump truck."

Annabeth is actually rather hurt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"They'd spot you in a second. That belly isn't doing much for you."

"They can also spot you too, you know."

Thalia rolls her eyes. "Please." She opens the air bag compartment and pulls out a plastic bag of wigs. "I always come prepared."

She ends up selecting a bobbed blond wig and a huge pair of sunglasses, and Annabeth rather sulkily watches as she quickly secures her hair into a topknot and then wrestles the wig on top of it. She pushes the sunglasses up her nose and then turns at beams at herself in the rearview mirror. She may be almost thirty but she still looks utterly magnificent, and for the first time Annabeth looks down at her rounded tummy and feels a twinge of insecurity.

"Well," Thalia says cheerfully. "Won't be long."

"Keep in touch," Annabeth says. "Are those PhotoFrames?"

Thalia nods, tapping the tiny camera implanted in the corner of the glasses. "I'll send you pictures by the minute with my Bluetooth."

"You do that," she says. "Be subtle."

Thalia pushes open the car door, looking back and giving Annabeth a cheeky smirk. "Please," she says. "Subtle is my middle name." She pulls down her sunglasses and winks, and then pushes them back to cover her eyes and heads inside the café.

Annabeth pulls her phone out of her pocket. The camera will automatically send pictures every sixty seconds to her phone, but the pictures won't be of any use until Thalia is inside.

As if on cue, she receives a text message from an unknown number, which turns out to be a photograph of the door of the café. She deletes it.

She knows she's going to be sitting in the car for a while, if Thalia is going to get anything from Piper's conversation. To pass the time, she decides to pay her beloved husband a call.

 _Husband_. It's been five years and Annabeth is still not used to calling Percy her husband. Husband. It sounds so solid, so firm and stable, like it's been stamped into cement. It makes her pleased to know that they have been bound together by both love and the law, something she is very fond of both breaking and working for, but it also equally terrifies her. What if she's not good enough for percy? What if something like the accident happens again? Percy will understand what's happening, at least, so they won't have to go through the whole ugly breakup/year of separation/awkward meet-up shebang, but she doesn't know who's watching, and when.

Eleven years ago, Percy was Annabeth's boyfriend of six months. Now he's her husband of five years. If Luke kidnapped and threatened to kill Percy when they had barely been dating a year, she dreads to think what would happen if they got hold of Percy now.

Or rather, she dreads would she would do. If the same situation happened again, she wouldn't know what to do. Especially now that she's on the brink of having his son. It terrifies her and before she presses his contact to call him she closes her eyes and prays that he stays safe for the rest of his life.

Her phone buzzes again. It's another picture, this one of the tablecloth.

She stares at it resolutely for a few seconds before calling Percy's number.

He picks up on the third ring. "Wife," he greets.

"Husband."

"To what pleasure do I owe this call?"

"I'm bored and pregnancy sucks."

Percy laughs. "Only a few more weeks."

"A few more weeks of swollen feet and a giant whale stomach."

"It's full of our child, though, so it's not that bad."

"That's not something you're meant to agree on, Percy."

There's a pause. "I mean. You are rather huge."

She lets out a shocked laugh. " _Percy_!"

"It's cute, though! I love your giant whale stomach!"

She sniffs indignantly. "That's only because inside of it is your troublesome doppelganger who's been giving his mommy nothing but grief for the past nine months."

Annabeth can hear Percy's smile in his voice. "It'll all be worth it in the end," he says.

She smiles softly and rubs a hand over her stomach. The baby kicks her hand, as if he can feel her, and her smile widens. "Yeah."

"Here, if it makes you feel any better, I'll even get up during the nights for the first month."

"That's a deal that I'm holding you to. No taking-backsies."

Percy laughs.

She's about to say something when her phone buzzes again, and then again, which means Thalia has also texted her. This photo must be important. "Hold on," Annabeth says. "Thalia just texted me, I'm putting you on loudspeaker."

She pulls the phone away from her ear and stabs the loudspeaker button. Scrolling her phone open, she checks the text – the photo is of Piper sitting opposite Jason, and someone else who also looks incredibly familiar. She looks down at Thalia's text and then it all clicks.

ITS LEO VALDEZ WHAT THE HELL IS PIPER DOING WITH LEO VALDEZ

"Leo?" Annabeth accidentally mumbles out loud.

"What was that?" Percy asks.

"Oh, nothing." She studies the picture again. Yeah, that's as sure as hell Leo Valdez. Annabeth wonders what the heck Piper is doing with both Leo and Jason, two boys she hasn't seen since high school, in a small coffee shop in Oklahoma.

But that's when she feels It.

It starts off quite normal, and then suddenly her uterus contracts and she is hit by one of the worst pains she has ever experienced. It's so sudden she lets out a screech and drops her phone, curling in on herself, her massive belly heaving.

"Annabeth!" Percy yells over the phone. "What happened? Are you okay?"

The pain begins to subside but her head in still spinning. She feels like she's going to be sick.

And that's when she feels the seat underneath her thighs begin to get wet.

Holy crap she's giving _birth_.

"I'm giving birth," she says in a voice that sounds much too calm for what she's feeling. She's surprised she can even talk. She's shaking everywhere, and not necessarily from the pain, because it's stopped hurting as much now, but because she knows that very soon a baby is going to come out of her and she's not sure if she can deal with that right now. "Percy, I'm giving birth."

There's a pause and then, in a very quiet voice, Percy squeaks, "What?"

"I'm giving birth. Go home. Get everything I'll need – hot water bottle, some blankets, my purse. Get it all. Head to the hospital, I'll be there soon. Thalia's with me, I'll get her to take me."

Percy sounds like he's freaking out more than she is. "But – Annabeth – "

"You are in no position to defy me, Percy. Our son is coming out of my vagina so from now until the moment he is in my arms I call all the shots. Are we clear?"

"Y–yes, sir! I'll, um– oh, be safe, Annabeth, _please_."

"I'll be fine. Go."

"O – okay. I'll see you soon."

"You too. Now _shoo_."

She hangs up before he can say anything and instead calls Thalia. Through the window of the café she watches as she picks up her phone, adjusting her sunglasses.

"Hey," she says easily. "What's up?"

"I'm giving birth."

There is silence. " _Excuse_ me?"

"You heard me. Get Piper and get your butt in this car, I need someone to drive me to the hospital."

"You're– you're giving _birth_?"

" _Thalia_."

"Sorry, sorry, yes. Okay, okay. I'll be out in a minute, right."

"My waters broke over your car seat, by the way."

Thalia lets out a hysterical, breathless laugh. "I really don't care."

"You will once I've stopped giving birth."

"Which is not now, Annabeth. Oh my God, okay, I'll be two ticks."

Annabeth watches as she rips off her wig in the middle of the café. Several customers give her horrified looks as she stalks over to Piper and grabs her arm. Piper looks just as shocked, but Thalia doesn't appear to be taking no for an answer; she drags her towards the exit, and says something, and then suddenly they're both sprinting towards the car.

Piper flings open the car door. "Annabeth oh my _God_ –"

"Get in the car," Annabeth instructs. "Now. I need to be at a hospital _pronto_."

Clumsily, she clambers in the backseat. She looks a little stunned, which Annabeth supposes is fair, because it's not every day someone takes off their wig in public, turns out to be your best friend, and then announces that your other best friend if on the verge of giving birth in the car, except at this moment all Annabeth can focus on is her son and how if they don't get to the hospital soon her baby is going to come out of her on the motorway.

Thalia tries to shove her keys in the ignition, but her hands are shaking. She swears and tries again, and again, and on the forth time does she get them in. She's trembling. They all are.

"You're not safe to drive," Annabeth says.

"Yes I am."

"You're in shock, I'm not letting you drive me. Jump over."

Thalia stares at her. "Annabeth, you're _giving birth_. You can't _drive_!"

"Watch me." She holds out her hand. "Keys. Now."

"I'll do it," Piper offers bravely.

"It'll take to long for you to get into the front seat. Thalia, just scooch up, I'll sit on you if I have to. Now come on."

Together, they speed down the motorway. Thalia is sitting surrounded by Annabeth's uterine water, which is quite frankly utterly disgusting, and Annabeth is on the verge of giving birth and yet she's driving a car, but so long as they're moving that's all that matters. The speed limit is 60 and they're pressing 70, but nonetheless Annabeth narrows her eyes and steps on the gas.

The second contraction happens ten minutes away from the hospital. They're roaring down a busy street and suddenly her stomach twists, and she cries out and the car veers dangerously to the left. She manages to right herself before they crash, but she's in so much pain her eyes are watering. Furiously, she blinks the tears away. She can do this.

"Annabeth, stop!" Piper shouts. "Let me drive!"

"No, I can do this."

"Like hell you will. Pull over. I don't care if we're going to have to deliver your son on the side of the road but I would rather that than you crash and kill all four of us. Pull. Over."

Annabeth grits her teeth. "Fine."

She stops as soon as she can. Thalia lifts her into the backseat and crawls in after her, Piper plopping in the front seat. She turns the ignition and as soon as the car stopped it's going again, and faster than ever. Piper is at least 30mph over the speed limit and Annabeth is quite terrified that they're going to get pulled over and then she'll really have to give birth on a highway, but then she's hit by another contraction and she swears because she doesn't think she's ever been in so much pain. Thalia offers her hand and Annabeth crushes it between her fingers.

"Holy crap Piper," she yells. "You better speed up!"

Piper glances nervously at the speedometer on the dashboard, and then bites her lip and suddenly they're going even faster. Thalia looks like she's about to vomit.

Finally, finally, they reach the hospital. Annabeth grits her teeth and Piper and tHalia rush out to help her stagger to the front doors. Thalia keeps mumbling "ohmygod" over and over under her breath, and if it were any other situation Annabeth would laugh because her composure is completely gone, but she's in so much pain all she wants to do is cry.

Percy is flittering around awkwardly at the front desk. When he sees her come in, he lets out a shriek.

"ANNABETH!" he yells. "ANNABETH!"

"Sir," a nurse says. "We're going to have to ask you to keep it down."

"But–" Percy flounders, and then points. "My _wife_!"

"Yes, sir, your wife–"

" _Help her then_!"

Annabeth is whizzed away on a hospital gurney. She fondly recalls the last time she was on a gurney, and how it had resulted with her climbing out of a window with a broken leg (fun times) but then the forth contraction hits and she recoils so violently she nearly falls off.

"Ma'am," a doctor says. "Mrs Jackson–"

"My wife!" Percy shouts. "Is she okay?"

Annabeth groans. " _Screw you and your penis, Percy_!" she shrieks.

Percy lets out scream. "Oh my God she's hurting heal her!"

"Sir, if you don't calm down, we're going to have to ask you to leave."

Percy looks mollified.

A nurse wrestles Annabeth onto the delivery table and rips her clothes off. Annabeth nearly punches her because those were her best jeans, and then she accidentally does when contraction five hits and her legs shoot out like springs. The nurse doubles over, groaning.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry," Annabeth blabbers. She's sweating and crying and she's never been in so much pain and she almost leans forward to pat the nurse on the head before another nurse pushes her down.

"You need to lie down."

Annabeth obeys, closing her eyes. Her chest heaves, and her whole body aches, and then suddenly there's someone holding her hand and it's _Percy_ and then she promptly bursts into tears.

"Percy," she sobs. "It _hurts_ it hurts make it _stop_."

Percy looks terrified. "I–"

"Just keep holding her hand, sir," a male nurse recommends. "That normally works."

Annabeth shrieks.

The birth seems to take hours upon hours of nothing but excruciating agony. She doubles up and retches and screams and cries but nothing seems to be happening, because her son decides to show up late and now he isn't jolly well coming out, and Annabeth kind of wants to hit something but also cry so she does both and just wails. She looks an utter state, in nothing but a thin hospital blanket, covered in sweat and tears and drool, and there are several points where she almost passes out.

And then finally: "We can see the head!"

Percy screeches in alarm and flaps his arms.

Annabeth is told to push, so like _hell_ she does. She pushes and pushes and pushes and her entire body is on fire but she keeps pushing because suddenly there's a head and a set of shoulders and a body and then there are legs and suddenly her stomach is gone and there's a baby in her arms and she starts to cry again.

"Nine twenty three pm," the doctor tells her cheerfully. "Sixteenth of May. Eight pounds. Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Jackson, you have yourself a wonderful, healthy baby boy."

Percy starts to cry as well. Annabeth cradles this _thing_ in her arms, this strange alien-looking child with a big head and scrunched-up face and tiny fingers with even smaller fingernails and he's ugly and covered in blood but he's _perfect_.

"He's so ugly," Annabeth sobs. "I love him."

Percy lets out a hysterical laugh. "I love you."

Annabeth is too busy crying to kiss him but she would have so instead she presses her bloody, shaking, sweaty hand to his cheek and cradles their son's head against her child.

"Have you decided on a name, ma'am?" a nurse asks politely. She thinks it's the nurse she kicked. She should apologise.

Annabeth looks. "What should we call him?"

"I don't know. Ronald?"

Annabeth starts crying harder. "No."

Percy looks mildly scared. "Okay, not Ronald."

"Let's call him Noah," she says. "Noah's a pretty name."

"It's a very pretty name."

"Is Noah a pretty name?" she asks the nurse, in case Percy's lying.

The nurse nods. "Indeed, ma'am."

Well, then. That's decided. "Let's call him Noah, then," she says. "Noah Jackson."

"Our son," Percy says.

Annabeth nods. "Our son."

Their son.

It's kind of perfect.

* * *

 **A/N and that my friends is the very end of iSpy**

 **im actually kind of nostalgic and sad about this because iSpy was my very first fic and you guys have been so so wonderful and lovely and AMAZING towards it, i love all your feedback and your reviews so a massive thank you to everyone who has ever reviewed, favourited, followed or even just read and enjoyed it for making this so awesome for me i love you guys**

 **(also a big round of applause to Rachel for helping me with the birth that was very helpful)**

 **im gonna make this sappy bit short because otherwise this a/n is gonna be humoungous so to show you how much i love youuuuu i wanna extend some thank yous:**

 **TheWritingManiac** – rachel you beautiful beautiful being. thank you SO SO MUCH for being so supportive and wonderful and thank you for being so excited about all of my writing you're like my own personal cheerleader thank you girl i love you so so much

 **GollyGeeWhiz** – HELENA you amazing wonderful child where do i start thank you for being amazing and always there and thank you for my box of Canada and thank you thank you THANK YOU for always leaving such wonderful wonderful reviews love ya girllll xx

 **MusicalBookworm [guest]** – oh my goodness yOU i absolutely adore you thank you so much for all of your incredible reviews they make me smile so big i absolutely adore you you beautiful person thank you for all your endless support and thank you for sending me puns and ahhh i love you

 **allineedisabook [guest]** – holy crap OKAY your review was SO BEAUTIFUL i nearly started crying you've been nothing but a complete and utter angel and i just love and appreciate you so so much thank you thank you thank you (also for your questions a. YES i absolutely adore tea i am your stereotypical brit haha b. i'm a Ravenclaw! c. i think my new story might be a famous!au although i say that very timidly im still not massively sure and d. ooooOooh okay The Enemy by Charlie Higson [it's quite gory but still bomb], Harry Potter, The Rest Of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness and Carry On by Rainbow Rowell :DDDD)

 **ImpossibleThings** – girl i love you thank you so much for your amazing reviews you're incredible and amazing and just everything thANKKK YAAA

 **sickasfrick4578** – omg thank youu ahhh i love you tooooo and sorry for messing with your emotions haha

 **kissduck2** – THANK YOU! honestly that means so much thank youu xxx

 **SeaGreen101** – oh my goodness your review made me tear up thank you so much i love youuu

 **fandomqueen18** – eeeeee thank yoU! i love you too friend thank you for reviewing!

 **Jason** **Senan** – oh wow thank you so much! im glad you like it that much!  
 **JustAnAverageBookLover** – xDDD

 **RockRoy** – thank you!

 **bookfangirl445** – thank you so much! i certainly will and i hope this chapter was enough!

 **Tori** **Chase** – GIRL thank you so so much i absolutely adore you and your reviews :DDD

 **a girl can dream** – oh my goodness thank you! unfortunately this story is a mortal au so im really sorry but i don't think i'll be including the olympian gods as olympian gods but thank you for being so interested!

 **Quihi** – thank you for all your support love yaaa

 **Birdlover52** – thank you so much!

 **im so terribly sorry if i missed anyone (im doing this in a bit of a rush haha) but i love you all so much!**

 **okay also so some stuff (i need to make this short or this a/n is going to be longer than the actual chapter):**

 **a few of your were wondering if i was gonna keep writing and to that i say oui oui! (shameless self promo again) i've actually got a new percabeth one-shot out called** long live all the magic we made **if you want to check that out and im planning on starting an actual new fic soon so woop!**

 **ALSO – this story is (unfortunately) quite finished HOWEVR for the next few weeks i am gonna be editing it a bit so if you see it has been updated it's not sorryyyy i just forgot to tie up a few loose ends.**

 **and finally this a/n has ended! as always thank you so so much for all your support i love you guys. please tell me what you thought and i'll see you all soon with a new story (ahh). love you xxx**


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